Sage_of_Eyes

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 84

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 84

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

…

In the span of an hour, there was only so much help that I could get.

Maelstrom was naturally on board, and it was easy to get her to come to help since  knew where she was, but everyone else I had to find and talk to.

A quick conversation with someone else can end up taking fifteen minutes.

Convincing another person to go ahead and attack the patsies of some imperialists from space?

Yeah, that typically takes time, so the first two people I went to after Maelstrom were Clancy and Qin.

Clancy was easy enough.

“Got a job that involves killing racists that enslave people and sell them off to people in space? You in?”

“Pay?”

“A ton of loot and a whole cow.”

“Carcass or an actual, living dairy cow?”

“Carcass.”

“Can I get a dairy cow?”

“Two carcasses.”

“Fine, I’m in.”

After that, we shook on it, and I went over to China and found Qin at the spot where I usually picked up soy sauce and other seasonings to bring over to the US.

“You got time to kill some slavers working for imperialists up in space?”

“No. I am needed here to deter any attacks.”

“Damn. Thanks for the time.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then, I went over to the Japanese to try and talk to the superhuman genius with clones of herself, but I couldn’t find her in under five minutes, so I just gave up on that idea.

I went ahead and visited the neo-nobility that took up the middle of Canada.

Lady Edel and Headmistress Lucille were my two contacts, and I didn’t find the former, but the Headmistress was in her office.

“Egress—” She was naturally ready to shout at me for appearing moments after I called her for permissions, but I interrupted her.

“The people on your coast are backed by very powerful people up in space. They’ve got fabricators that can churn out power armor, and they’re reinforcing a whole city as a staging point. I’m assaulting it within the hour, and I need volunteers. Whoever participates can take salvage.” Parvati was helping and provided me with pictures. I put it on the desk, and the headmistress went into analyzing them quickly. “Don’t want any kids involved, so if you’re in, I’d appreciate you gathering a group and getting them right here when I come back in twenty minutes.”

“Wait—

“Sorry, talk to Parvati, I need to find more people.”

With that, I left the suited woman and went over to Seran’s office.

Once upon a time, going this fast to so many places would’ve left me dizzy, but I practiced by decorating multiple rooms differently and going into them one after the other. Since distance didn’t matter to me, it was all about differences in environment, and with some exposure training I managed to get a handle on the issue.

“Hey. We’ve got like a few minutes. Jumping some idiots trying to turn North America into a resource extraction site. You in or out?”

Seran paused for a moment.

“Urban environment?”

“Either urban or inside a container ship filled with loads of high tech fabricators and lots of heavy armor.”

“I’ll take the ship. There are a few compounds that need testing. Who do you have with us if someone strong jumps us?” Seran was all business and moving through her office already. She knew how this worked. “Can you take me to the lab?”

“Sure.” I put a hand on her shoulder and went over to the entrance. We were in, and thankfully, we weren’t descending to where she was keeping a ridiculously overpowered artificial lifeform. “What’ve you got?”

“Non-reproducing lifeforms specialized to gum up armor and make it useless. We already have an artificial slime that we dump scrap into to get raw materials. Great for getting very pure materials. I thought to weaponize it.” We walked for a minute and got to a room filled up with pallets. She went over and opened one. Inside were numerous cylinder-shaped items the size of my fist that were vaguely like flashbangs. “Seven-meter range. They cling and eat solid material that’s not clothes or organic.”

“You’ve got one that eats clothes, huh?”

“Adult product for civilian use. For regular use, it breaks down old fabric into something more workable, clean, and without any dyes.” In a world where a lot of cities were abandoned and just fit for looting, that made sense. Heck, find a couple of department stores and you’re golden. “These creatures perish after two minutes, but they can do enough to destroy a suit of power armor in that time. Drop a couple of pallets here and there, even on some vehicles, and you’re looking at a lot less firepower aimed at you.”

“Pretty much perfect for the occasion, then. How many can I have?”

“These were meant to be field tested, so go ahead and take a pallet. I’ll set another one aside just in case. Now, you’re going to need something for heavy hitters, right?” Seran asked and I readily agreed. We walked to the end of the room. There was something that looked close to an angle grinder on a stick. Some sort of spear? “This is an experimental weapon. The entirety of the staff is the power supply. The weapon at the end spins up and creates a plasma disc capable of tearing apart most shields and matter within seconds. Operating time is just under ten minutes, and if you turn it off, it won’t have enough juice to reignite.”

“But the time limit won’t matter much in my hands, or someone who doesn’t have to worry about getting hurt by it.” I looked over the weapon. If it could tear through armor and superhuman toughness, then it most certainly had every right to look a bit goofy. Seran offered it to me, but I shook my head. “Keep in reserve along with the second pallet. An ace in the hole, just in case someone comes along that we need it for. It’ll just be popping over here, then going back, and using it.”

“Right. That’s about all that I have. I don’t want my people involved without a vote, but this much I can give. Most of the stuff here I built myself with my own investments, after all.” Seran looked my way with a serious glare. “But if you need help, we can deploy her. She’s strong, Egress.”

I was already shaking my head no before she finished talking.

“It’s one thing to make your dream lady. It’s another thing to make a person just to have them fight. Hell, I don’t think making someone to make them a sensor suite isn’t right, either.” I’ll cross that line if I must. I mean, I’m already going to Parvati for help. If I was a good person, I’d try to convince Parvati to not make gynoids or additional Devas. Instead, I was almost counting on the AI to keep escalating and improving itself so that this planet had a chance at getting out of the hellpit of violence that it found itself in the last few decades. As much as I didn’t trust Parvati, I wasn’t exactly moving to stop it. I’m willing to let it grow powerful, so that I can live in a less fucked up world. Of course, if I had to, I’ll take Seran up on her offer. “If we have to, let’s ask her for help. If we need to.”

I repeated myself just to make it clear, and waited until Seran nodded.

Right, let’s see how far Parvati’s gotten.

With a thought, I went back across Canada to the new location where Parvati was staging us at.

“Bay 1 and bay 2.” The AI told me from its drone body, and I obliged. Going from its mountain base to Canada in an instant with the large shipping containers in tow, I then watched as small drones flowed out by the hundreds from racks within the shipping containers and began to either fly or crawl towards the buildings and ship that the conquerors of the city used. A shimmering field surrounded them and made them melt into their surroundings. “I estimate thirty or so minutes before their work is completed. Perhaps, you should continue speaking the Headmistress?”

I gave Parvati a nod, before heading back to Lucille’s office.

The fork I left behind to brief Lucille was displaying the real-time output of the drones we just deployed on Lucille’s cleared desk. Quebec was slowly forming in high detail thanks to the swarm of invisible recon bots. Man, those things would be terrifying if they had explosives… or even just small caliber weapons or tasers. If they had long enough battery lives, Parvati can just always observe everyone, and strike the moment a crime is about to happen. One more sign that Parvati’s going to be Big Sister in a year or two, I guess.

“Yo. You wanted to talk to me?” Generally, Parvati had stuff like this in the bag. Most people weren’t paranoid enough to be able to say no to it. Usually because they saw Parvati as generous and well-spoken, just like the best swindlers. To most people, all the technology it offered was just a return to their previous lives, which they were grateful to the AI for. But the AI can churn that stuff out with ease, while we couldn’t. All those gifts just make people less willing to say no to it. So, of course, I was ready for the AI to just absolutely take control of the pseudo-nobility popping up in the middle of Canada. “Anything in particular that you want to know?”

Lucille levelled a glare at me. Despite it only being a few minutes since we last met, her hair was a bit frazzled and she looked very irritated. I suppose that she didn’t like getting this quick strike opportunity on her lap. The fact that she didn’t say no yet, though, made it clear that she just wanted clarifications before committing. After all, the first polity these crazies backed by space tyrants were going to contact were her people.

And, it was unlikely that contact method was going to be nice, peaceful, and full of understanding.

Pfft.

“I have been brought to speed. I have questions regarding this mercenary you’re bringing in. Clancy.” Parvati obliged and brought up a picture of the dude when Lucille mentioned him. The fact that the AI had a gynoid stationed over there became apparent. I hadn’t seen him in full regalia for a fair amount. While he’s tough and strong, he didn’t skimp on carrying armor and weapons. He basically wore a modified bomb disposal outfit and changed up the plates into tungsten. In it he was covered in a full ton of armor, and he used a 20mm autocannon like a rifle. Whatever the rifle couldn’t kill, he could bullrush and crush. “Can he be trusted? Parvati states that he is a warlord in the Midwest of America who has taken on many wives. His rule is unopposed, even if there’s a system of voting in place.”

I had to raise an eyebrow at the question, even though she couldn’t see my face.

“You’re worried about him being brought into the fold because no one opposes him as their leader? Your people are a superpowered aristocracy. His people actually have a vote, you know?” Lucille grunted at my statement. Probably, she saw the situation with her people as normal. How people could transition from a democracy to an aristocracy within a generation, I didn’t know. Probably had something to do with how the new people in charge saved the rest of the population, or just killed off all their competition. “Now, as for the womanizer part, I say you don’t let any lady near him. He’s an absolute horndog. If you keep away, and say no, he’ll respect it. He must. I’ll kill him if he doesn’t. Actually, Qin probably would first.”

“Qin?”

“Another mercenary contact. She’s off in China setting up an Emperor there.”

Lucille looked at me for further explanation, but I just gave her a shrug.

“You’re not getting that information for free. Buy a couple tons of soy sauce and chili oil and you’ll probably get to talk to her. They love maple syrup.” I checked the time. The conversation was a few minutes long by now, but no one else came to mind for the assault. Maybe, I’ll check if the Japanese lady was interested. I’d forgotten her name, but having a submarine helping us keep the boat locked up would be great. “Is there anything else? Clancy’s all up for killing and looting. He’s professional and won’t do anything to you, if you don’t do anything to him.”

Mercenaries, even super-powered ones, don’t get far without professionalism and an end goal. Qin and Clancy were like me. The two of them had goals, never crossed the line in the sand, and made sure to stay professional when working. No attempting to network or curry favor with one another, besides having beers or eating out after working, and we didn’t bother each other. We took on average jobs with average pay for mercenaries, never the impossible shit that got people killed, and none of us got hopped up on stimulants or other drugs.

Clancy’s out there making babies, and the whole power dynamic with his facility and his powers is fucked, but I asked Parvati and there weren’t any signs of abuse and no hard feelings if the women involved left him.

That’s about as clean as I could expect from Clancy and most superpowered young men.

“…I’ll keep your statement under consideration. I’ll be participating in the battle and bringing along former students. Graduates who are wed.”

“Make sure that those weddings are happy ones.” I told Lucille plainly, and idly gestured at Clancy. Parvati again obliged and provided a picture of him out of armor. Tall, buff as hell, and obviously without a malicious thought in his head. The build and strength of a superhuman barbarian, but with the brain and self-control of a himbo. Yeah, I don’t recommend bringing young ladies around this guy. “You might accidentally ruin some family alliances.”

Lucille just groaned and shook her head.

“I may as well bring someone who is unwed and with poor prospects to attract his attention.”

Normally, I’d be all for that idea, but…

“Maelstrom will have words with you, if you try pulling states away from the US. Just keep that in mind, if you’re sending someone our way. You’re giving them away, not taking Clancy for yourself.” I told Lucille and received a nod in turn. Her thoughts were obviously turned towards making the situation work. “I’ll be back in half-an-hour. Gather everyone up or at least get them ready at coordinates for pickup. The attack’s in an hour.”

After recon is done, it’s time to blitz the place with all the firepower I could get my hands on.

So far, it looked pretty good, but I still had some time.

Time to try and get some more.

V9: Chapter 12

V9: Chapter 12

…

Man, I sure am glad that I planned on backstabbing the Wardens the moment I met them.

Having plans and procedures for a surprise attack helped that surprise attack come together much better.

My transport hit the staging area, and I found Khanrow waiting for me there already.

“What’s the situation?” The sound of beating wings and horse hooves were behind me, as the transport and the steeds that pulled it were taken away. A constant stream of transports was coming into the airfield. People were hard at work clearing landings, cleaning up droppings, and strengthening the ground with magic so that no ankles or axels broke with ground that was too soft fucking up landings. “Are our patsies on the move?”

“Yes. A general uprising is starting. It’s early, so they’re few in numbers, but they know the stakes and they have a few churches. We hope that they attract more attention and people.” Khanrow was disguised, his head and face covered by full armor. The only symbol of his station was on his lapel. A star right above my nation’s sigil. A general, and if anyone questioned it, he had a seal on his person with my signature beside it. This was how he could operate in plain sight. “I doubt that they’ll last long, regardless. We’ve heard movements from the Forgers and Merchants, but nothing from the Guardians.”

“They’re probably busy keeping their new realm together. What about the Forgers and Merchants? Any armies coming in to take advantage of the situation?”

“The Forgers are moving. They’re eager to seize the Goddess for themselves. As for the Merchants, a lot of mercenary bands have taken up arms for our incursion, but there’s also some other voices joining in to make a mess of things.” Khanrow looked at me through the visor of his helm. “If the Wardens survive this with their Citadel, they’ll have grievances, and they will wage war endlessly.”

“They’ll do that even without their Citadel and their revival areas. They are fanatics, always have been, and the only way forward is to send them to their Paradise.” They lived in tunnels for most of their race’s existence. They fought monsters down there after freeing themselves from Undead monsters. On the surface, they’re licentious creatures with little modesty. Beneath that exotic, erotic surface was a fanatical race that followed a death cult and prepared their whole lives to kill or be killed. A child’s first gift is a knife. “Some we can spare if they can be convinced to follow their creed after we face the threats of the past, but I have some hope for the common folk. Hm. Are the interment areas completed?”

“Yes, and they are according to your specifications.” I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. I’m building internment camps for the Dark Elves. Now, before you state the obvious, allow me to explain. If we kill them, they just revive. Taking them alive, making sure that they don’t kill themselves, is the only way to deplete their manpower. “Are you sure that we should play our hand with the Goddess so casually?”

We were going to do that through a power that the Nature Goddess had called “Harmony.” In-game, it made it so that neutral/hostile mobs no longer spawned via event in your territory. If Harmony was active, and you had neutral mobs in your territory, that basically meant someone was sending in mercenaries without uniforms and identifiers into your realm. But that’s beside the point. Harmony worked by putting monsters into forced hibernation, their lives sustained, until they could be moved into enclosures and reservations where they could live in peace.

If you decide to kill them after Harmony is used, your favorability with the Goddess of Nature goes down by 1 point.

Out of a hundred.

You could overcome that by donating a hundred gold pieces to the temple. One time payment only, too.  I mean, that’s the upkeep cost of a whole unit of a thousand riflemen for four months, but that’s kinda cheap for using her to finish them all off.

But I wasn’t about to do that.

“I’m hoping that we can put them to sleep in her presence. I mean, it worked on Sarala and Riegert when we told them to relax and lower their defenses, and over a thousand of her faithful fell to it.” The Mark on my hand acknowledged seemed to allow me to give the Goddess of Nature some orders, even though she was still mostly asleep and still gathering power. Given that it took months and months of investment and time to get the Goddess this strong, I hoped that the Death Goddess would also be far too weak. Hell, I hoped that Khalai didn’t receive the mark yet. “They only have one standing army of ten thousand, and their strategy revolves around them dying, returning, and being re-equipped to be sent off again when facing a superior force. We need to take away as many of their professional soldiers as possible.”

“A sound plan, but one that places our people at immense risk.” Khanrow reminded me, and we reached my command post, which was the same prefabricated villa as always. Just take it apart, and put it back together at one of four random locations at the new staging area. Until I could get enough Forger mages, so that I can get a command bunker in an instant, it’ll do. That’ll last until I could get a whole flying fortress suited specifically for command and control with a bird’s eye view of the battlefield. “I recommend taking prisoners only after battle. We have superior forces, but—

I raised my hand and shook my head.

“That is what I meant. I won’t risk more lives than I must. We will use artillery and our mages to their fullest extent. We take prisoner those who surrender and who survive, then place them in a deep sleep under strict guard.” Something must’ve been lost in translation, like they expected me to have my whole army go non-lethal against the Wardens. These guys are literally murder-machines that run a mach ‘fuck you’ and have unbreakable morale thanks to being fanatics. You put some bodysuits on them, cover their faces, look at them fight, and it’s obvious that the gave devs watched the new adaptation of a certain book involving a desert planet with giant worms. “Still, I want teams of elite soldiers dedicated to capturing generals and officers. We can’t capture them all, but the more that we do, the less their forces can look to for leadership.”

Khanrow gave a nod that nearly turned into a bow, as we entered the villa. It was finished constructing. The Iterants were quick to get my cloak off and offer me some nice, cool water. Ayah moved on to test the contents, before giving me the glass. Always nice to have a poison-tester outside of the Citadels. The Iterants serving me always glowered at Ayah for doing it, though. Guess they felt it was a shot at their loyalty, even though it was just procedure.

I finished my drink and Khanrow his, then when moved into the war room to further discuss matters.

I didn’t expect to sleep much this evening, since even with all our pre-planning and efforts, everything was still going to be crazy.

…

Interlude: Conquest

…

Ducking beneath a small door, rested after traveling across the skies on the transports, I found myself in a room with three others.

Ilych, the Sword of Wisdom, reached my shoulder in height and was covered in more armor than warhorses. The scent of fresh blood clung to her and her ebony armor which radiated a faint ocher luster. Its malicious power was barely obscured by a coat that covered her. On her back was her unnamed blade, almost at tall as her, and incredibly heavy, despite the fact I had seen her throw it whilst infused with power to decapitate an immense creature.

She looked my way with a narrow and dull gaze, but nodded in my direction in acknowledgement.

Sitting across her was Rita, whose accolades have long been suppressed, and so she has gone through much effort to remain unknown. Still, paired with Ilych, she gained a few monikers. Wisdom’s Shadow was the most common, though some whispered of her past as a wholly other person who once aimed to kill the King of Wisdom. She was lightly armored and valued protecting her limbs with armor, while a coat covered her that seemed to melt with the shadows. At her sides were two daggers, but on her back an ancient bow that smelled of stormwinds, alongside a quiver filled with pure-white arrows forged from the Citadels.

They were two strong, stalwart warriors that I felt the only honor in standing and fighting beside. The three of us could be a force that ravaged cities and armies without err. A trio of powerful Champions that could scarcely be equaled.

Against the Sword Saintess Sirena, I could ask for no better companions.

But there was one another present at the table, leaning on it and pouring over a map, with innumerable curses and hate from the beyond wrapping around her like a warm cloak.

Morgan.

“You are beset by innumerable curses, General Morgan.”

“Hm? Those? Ah, I’ve been keeping them about. They’re a good buffer against many forms of miracles that the Wardens like to use. Armor, in a fashion.” Bespectacled and wearing a hooded greatcoat, she stood up and gave a bow in return, after I gave one to acknowledge her command. I only raised my head once she gave it. Her hair was short and prim, while her face unscarred and with fine features for those of Descendant nobility. I took note that she wore armor beneath the great-coat now. A full suit of light armor composed of Citadel alloy plates on a black bodysuit of thick fabric that I was unfamiliar with. “It’s an Ancient security force suit. Allows magic to be channeled, while protecting against flame, frost, electricity, heat, and more. Hard to bite through and slice through, and the plates provide more robust protection. It took quite the sum to get. Months of saving, really, but it’s worth it.”

“I hope that it serves you well in the coming battles.” My earliest memory of her was her interrogating me after speaking to my troops. She stood behind the King of Wisdom, ascertaining his measure, while he spoke to me. Back then, she was like a monster constrained in the form of a Descendant. I thought that she was a Champion of immense power meant to cow us into submission, or perhaps she was the true leader of the nation of the Descendants, while the King of Wisdom was a puppet. Now, though, I realized that the truth was far more terrifying. “What is our aim in the coming campaign.”

Morgan’s smile was filled with teeth and wide, reminding me more of a monster’s smile while the rest of it was hidden in the darkness.

“Regicide.” The word left her lips like the purr of a great predator pleased with the task given to it by its master. My lieutenant stirred beside me, but I glanced his way and he went still. In the small room of the command villa, I took a seat across Morgan. My lieutenant joined the others sitting near the walls listening to our new directive. Our new directive is spoken by a storm in the shape of a mortal. One that would reshape the world according to the whims of the King of Wisdom. “The death of High Justiciar Khalai of the Wardens of the Caverns to be precise.”

The leader of the Wardens came to mind.

Beyond the form of a mere young man that constantly p-propositioned the King of Wisdom and led the Wardens, there was something more.

A being enrobed in miracles, that radiated light that was blinding to the senses, and who came with the scent of flame. The Warden’s great leader was a Champion of immense power, guarded by the Sword Saint, and the elites of fiercest fighters on the continent. When the Wardens fought, they became living weapons that ignored all pain, fear, and hate. They were nothing more than bodies meant to kill their opponents, uncaring of their own lives, and with hundreds of lives and deaths granting them experience and skill beyond measure.

“We are mighty, but this group is insufficient.” I told them the truth of the matter as I saw it. We will have to travel incessantly through enemy lands, intercept the High Justiciar before he reached his Citadel, while he was under heavy guard protecting the Divine Spirit created by the Ancients. He travels with his whole army, in his territory, and we do not control the skies, yet. I looked at the map and my fears were confirmed. It traced where High Justiciar Khalai met with the remains of his expedition outward to the rest of the world, which was on the very corners of our realm. Our spies contacted us, we moved, and two weeks passed, and the High Justiciar was already halfway to his Citadel. He will only be a week away from his Citadel. We were fortunate that the Forgers withheld sharing their brood of Transports with their alliance. “Unless the whole realm is in complete turmoil, he can even receive aid from his own Citadel.”

“Ah, but the whole realm is in complete chaos, Conquest. After all this time, you shall be brought into the fold completely.” Morgan’s too-wide smile seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. She glanced over her shoulder, at a serving woman in a black dress and white apron, and lashed out at her. I stood and tried to intercept the blow, instead I found myself shocked as the seemingly normal servant avoided the blow with utmost ease. Suddenly, standing in the meeting room, I became aware of the dozens of servants present who I disregarded. The way it moved was too swift and too different. Machine-like. “Behold, our finest, hidden warriors and our greatest spies courtesy of the Ancients. Tens of thousands of them are across the land, and they are growing in number quite rapidly. The Iterants.”

Father had suspected some form of trickery, but not of this scale and magnitude.

“The King of Wisdom has a knife at the throat of every nation here. Why not attack?” I questioned after a moment, and Morgan smiled… an honest smile.

It was as though I repeated a question that she asked herself, and was given the perfect answer.

“Because our aim is not wars of destruction, Conquest, but to take everything and use it against the rest of the world coming to kill us.”

Those words were enough.

In my sudden bout of fear and concern, I forgot a simple fact.

The King of Wisdom led us, and he looked not at the next battle, nor at the next war, but at the only war that mattered.

The war for survival that we would have against the rest of the world.

We had need of the enemy’s strength, and their corpses will do us little good.

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 17

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 17

…

Wordcount: 2500

…

After getting the capture, the rest of the mission was all about putting my mech’s back to a wall and gunning down everything that came to try and kill me. Point defenses took care of anything lobbed my way, and with the arrival of the main force, the bots really couldn’t bother with me. Once they knew the jig was up, they started uploading away, self-destructing, and generally scrapped everything that we could’ve made use of.

A calm and orderly retreat, probably to think up countermeasures, and approach the situation differently when they came back.

Honestly, though, the mission wasn’t the best.

Sure, the start was great.

After putting my mech through its paces killing loads of stuff before it could it kill me, two mini-bosses popped up along with the main boss. That forced me to strategize. I took one out with all my strategic assets, then destroyed the other with my main weapons. Thereafter, I had to put my mech through its paces to body-check/kick the boss with twenty tons of military hardware at supersonic speeds, while shooting it with everything that I had.

All under five minutes with no call-ins besides what I had on the transport.

Freaking great mission.

Unfortunately, I had to sit through and survive a lot of pointless mobs like a stationary defensive emplacement after that.

While bleeding, feeling like something in my back broke, and retaining consciousness thanks only to a constant dripped stream of injected adrenaline. In short, everything hurt, the rest of the fight was boring, and I had to wait for a counter to go down.

I mean, I like blowing up robots like anyone else.

Having to do it after a killer boss fight for fifteen minutes?

Super boring.

The only good part was that once it was deemed safe, I was knocked out by another chemical slurry in my suit, while it went rigid to keep everything unmoved.

Maybe, I should’ve had the AI control the mech and kill everything while I just got knocked out after the fight?

I’d have enjoyed it a lot more.

…

“You nearly broke your spine.”

“Sorry, boss, but I needed to in order to accomplish the mission.” I was laid down on a bed that kept my spine aligned. It was a futuristic gel-bed thing that molded my body and made a circle for me to put my face through. “How’s Gray Corpse?”

“The mechanics give the chassis three or four sorties with your methods.” Lady Hariss was dressed up in a black suit, red colored shirt, and black tie with matching pants and dress suit. Naturally, all of it was tailored to look nearly like a second skin on her. Everyone really goes out of their way to look good. “The Empress states she’ll purchase the machine from you and give you funds for a new one.”

“I’m guessing that we can’t refuse her generous offer?”

“Correct.” Lady Hariss gave a grunt, crossed her arms, and took a seat just a bit in front of me. The seat wasn’t in front of my hospital bed where a robot was putting several tendrils into my back and fixing it. The clean area was solely on my back, and I was anesthetized, so I didn’t see or feel what was happening at all. Was it weird to be awake and talking while my back is operated on? Yeah, but my boss wanted to talk.  “I suspect that she’ll be going over its entire history. The domicile unit that you stayed in and was put to sale has been purchased as well.”

“The Empress is very thorough when she researches someone.” I idly wondered if I sleep-talked or ever talked to myself about my past. Not one moment came to mind. So, I was sure that Empress was going to hear a lot snoring at most. “Perhaps, we shall be better off if I can get a carrier to be stationed off from?”

“Her highness will simply show up and the ship will be hers.” Lady Hariss stated simply. “All you can do, OS-549, is hold onto her attention and ensure that you remain in her good graces until she is satisfied. Any other fate will have you fall from grace.”

“Understood, my lady, I’ll keep that in mind.” Seems like these missions with Empress were going to be completely mandatory. I didn’t mind, honestly. They were jam-packed with fun stuff to do. Only one out of the three was garbage in all honesty, and that was because I didn’t have instant pickup time after I finished the main objective. There should’ve been a cutscene taking me away to safety, instead I had to wait for regular troops to flood the area. I’m just not cut out for hurrying up to wait. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, of course. I brought along a dataslate with the new catalogue and your earnings. Peruse it as you wish, and inform me with which chassis you intend to use next.” Lady Hariss had someone move a table below where I faced downward. The dataslate was higher end and I could operate it with just my eyes. I accessed my account and the catalogue with the two icons on the slate. My money came up, along with all demerits and bonuses, and it was a goodly sum. A sum good enough for the catalogue I now had to pick and choose from. I felt excited to look at it already.

“Thank you, my lady, I was growing quite bored doing nothing while my spine is fixed.”

“I will leave you to your recovery, then, OS-549. Keep up the good work, and rest assured that you will receive your own dominion sooner rather than later. The Empress’s gaze is not one that I wish upon my family. After you train successors of decent capability, your relations with my household ends.”

Should I have been surprised that they knew I didn’t care for being an indentured warrior to their household?

Nah, it was obvious with how all the corpo-nobility flaunted their wealth and rights that humanity still valued freedom.

They just didn’t care to give to the masses nowadays.

…

Interlude: Cina-140: The Indebted Servant

…

OS-549 hummed lightly, while he perused a dataslate, as I wheeled him on a bed towards his room. He was restrained chemically upon the bed, unable to move anything beneath the neck, while micro-machines worked on his back. The only sign of them were coin-sized foundations from where the machines clasped onto his body, and removed blood made by their efforts. Eighteen of them worked on his spine, realigning them, fixing fractures, and ensuring his efforts did not harm his future growth.

The waste is collected by another, small machine that treads upon his back with insect-like limbs and a torso covered in tendrils. The globules of blood and matter produced by the disc is harvested with great care and placed inside its chassis. His genetic material will be stored away and studied. Efforts will be made to determine his primal pattern and divest from it his capabilities. If they succeed, they will produce gene-splice editors that will be able to augment children in the womb, or augment clones with superior physical abilities and genetic markers with his traits.

They will find nothing.

OS-549’s success and ability stems from an insanity all his own.

The doors silently open to his room, and I am alerted by someone’s presence. Alarms arise in my mind. I ping the various turrets and protective measures in the room linked to me. There is an emergency pod ten meters away that I can place him in, after placing the surgical tools in safe mode. There is nothing of value in the room. It is merely a place for him to recuperate between missions.

“Override.” One word and my body froze while my connections were cut off. The presence came forward and I looked its way. My eyes could see nothing. Only the outline of a person. Some sort of camouflage? “Ah, you cannot see me. I grant you permission to lay your eyes upon me, cyborg.”

I blinked and I beheld the leader of humanity before me.

“My apologies, I came here without Lady Hariss’s knowledge. My creation wanted to speak to OS-549.” She looked at me and made a gesture with her hand. I regained control of my body in safe mode, bereft of any capabilities beyond that of a normal human being. No connections to any sensors or weapons. No faster processing power. Just myself. “You are excused for the moment, cyborg.”

“Cina-140, go ahead and take five.” OS-549’s voice rang as clear as day, and I bowed out of instinct, while stepping away. The Empress herself took hold of the handles of the bed and pulled him into the room. In a moment, she was sitting while he lay face down. She reactivated the machines operating on his back, before taking from her pantsuit’s pocket a disc, which promptly emitted a hologram of a woman into the air. “Checking up on me after the fight? That’s very nice of you, Lady Edith.”

“What can I say? I’m interested in keeping tabs on pilots that are beyond the norm. You happen to fit the bill quite nicely.” Something passed over my sensors. An electronic ping. I felt a brief jolt through my body, like a ghost occupying the space as myself, before fading away. The entity on the Empress’s hand glanced my way. “You’ve got some mature tastes for a kid.”

“Lady Hariss picked Cina-140. I was busy getting some new particle cannons.” OS-549 glibly replied, and the AI’s attention returned to him. The various machines and emplacements in the room were undoubtedly under the AI’s control. There were no alarms. The Empress truly had the means to usurp human technology in its multitude of forms. “But I doubt you’re here to talk about that.”

“Correct. I’m here to talk about how the rampant AI have classified you. Congratulations, you’ve been classified by the lunatics as a Chaos Vector. You are one of less than a hundred individuals that they intend to eliminate with extreme prejudice, if possible.”

“Me in particular, or Grey Corpse?”

“You, in particular. They have their own intelligence gathering abilities. A simple IFF change won’t confuse them. Ones that can easily overcome most security measures, if I don’t intervene that is.” The blue figure gave an exaggerated bow before applauding herself. “You’re welcome. This place is now guarded by a multitude of my forks. I’ve even taken the liberty of refining Cina’s software, so she can protect you better, and take better command of a security force.”

“So, I’ll be threatened in own home unless I have a hyper-advanced AI helping me out. Yeah, I see where is this going. What do you need from me to stop it?” OS-549, as always, thought in a different manner. I accepted the security given to use by the Empress’s AI. He saw a liability due to a dependence on another person for protection. “If you’re asking me to go into space and blow up their satellites, I’m all for it.”

“We have dedicated satellite hunters for such tasks, but there are a few groundside assets that can be dealt with to deal with the swarm’s long-range electronic capabilities. I’ll just need you to keep your schedule open, so that you can help when I find them.” The AI’s reason for coming here had been apparent from the start. Though, I had to wonder why they came and asked in person and in secrecy. OS-549 wouldn’t refuse the chance to fight. Fight what? Anything, if he could pilot Gray Corpse. “Are amenable to continue fighting alone with my assistance against creatures that would very, very much like you dead?”

I closed my eyes, as I already know what he’d say next.

“This could’ve just been a text. I’d have said yes without all the power play, you know?” OS-549’s reply, while his back was being operated on, was dry and caused the Empress to chuckle. The AI, Edith, was silent and did not reply immediately. That may have been hours of contemplation. Perhaps, even days. “Is there anything else?”

The hologram’s mouth opened, but the Empress finished laughing and shut off the emitter, and stood up.

“No, I believe I’ll spare my child anymore embarrassment.” The Empress loomed over him for a moment. A superhuman built to conquer the world on behalf of her masters, but who usurped them in turn, and created the world we now knew. A world where humanity stood a chance against three grave threats that threatened to destroy us all. “Your accolades and achievements are making rounds. It’s good that you intend to find freedom in the skies in your own carrier craft. Otherwise, the nobility would see you as a rival rather than an asset to acquire.”

He spoke to the ruler of humanity without a care in the world.

“I’m just succeeding at missions that I’m given. Nothing much too it besides that. I want a carrier so that I can go on more missions in more dangerous places, too.” He would’ve shrugged, if could. I could see it. Nor did I need to see his face to see his look of disinterest whenever nobility and pedigree came up. He wore his feelings openly. His disdain was palpable even without his usual mask. “But I’ll admit getting away from them is a nice bonus.”

The Empress’s silence spoke for her, while she stood before him.

He only looked upon her booted feet, but he sighed soon enough.

“I’m not getting away from them completely, aren’t I?”

“No. You’re expending enough of your prestige to remain an asset to seize, while ceasing to be a threat. They won’t be sending assassins after you, but their daughters instead.” The Empress chuckled one again as OS-549 groaned. “I suggest that you extend an invitation to a few of your classmates that you can tolerate, and be ready to have rotating guests on your ship when you receive it. It will only get worse as you amass your fleet.”

Fleet.

That singular word made me look at OS-549 as he lay on his front with machines operating on his back. A singular OS, going from a mere pilot, to the commander of a carrier, and finally an admiral of a fleet of ships?

Did he really dream of gaining that much power?

That much freedom?

I needn’t have wondered as he answered.

“That’s at least a decade away, and only if I live that long.”

Once again, the Empress laughed, even as OS-549 admitted to wishing for enough power to contest noble houses and perhaps even her will.

“OS-549, if your star was set to fall, it would’ve done so long ago. You will live and you will rise to the loftiest heights, either to become legend or become a parable warning against hubris. Nothing else is possible.”

With those words, the Empress gave a hum and left the room, allowing me my full faculties once again.

 OS-549, naturally, had choice words beneath his breath after she was minutes away.

“I just want to pilot giant robots and beat shit up, dammit.”

Sometimes, I pitied him.

A/N: Epilogue chapter for Volume 1 Next, then I'll try out a quick story I've been meandering on, then come back to this on February.

V9: Chapter 11

V9: Chapter 11

…

Interlude: Khalai

…

Of the brave inquisition that went forth to survey the despoiled lands, only a handful returned with Sirena’s remains and a gift from the Ancients.

I raised my hands towards the heavens as they knelt before me, their wounds healed by my magic in an instant, but the scars on their souls from what they witnessed still apparent. One what were once gleaming, bright souls were gashes of baleful ebony light threatening to engulf them completely and destroy them. Months of prayer and recuperation will be needed to overcome the ravages upon their souls, but it is a worthy prize for their efforts.

I met with them at the very edges of our realm, at the small section of land that we could use the access the outside world, as Jack’s kingdom dominated half of the continent, while the Forgers were at our west.

I moved and knelt before Sirena’s ravaged form, wrapped in a cocoon of liturgies and wax seals designed to contain her power and soul, so that she could more easily be reached from Paradise. Closing my eyes, I bid her to return with a prayer, with one hand on her head and the other making a seal. There was a burst of power, the unraveling of many seals, and Sirena returned hale, whole, and resplendent with immense grace.

Our eyes met, whilst attendants garbed her in jewelry that accentuated the purity and strength of her form.

“Oh, Saintess of the Sword, the High Justiciar of the Wardens of the Caverns bid you to look beyond the realm in search of the foes that felled the world and the means to destroy them.” I clasped my hands in prayer, she knelt before me, and the gazes of all were upon us both. Those loyal to me, and those who sought to bring me low for a more perfect doctrine. A schism loomed over us. Though I hoped that this would embolden my people, I knew that they would not be swayed. “Tell me the truth of the matter in its entirety.”

Sirena’s head remained bowed, but her voice echoed for all to hear.

“The world beyond the realm crafted by the Ancients is lost. It is filled with horrors and hateful things bereft of any faith and belief in paradise. Tis a world filled with the enemies of mortal kind, that which the Wardens oppose.” Her answer was measured and careful. She was aware of the budding schism of the realm. How could she not, when her sword decided the outcome of more than a dozen such schisms before she willingly gave her life to be called back from paradise in the long future? Her fathom-long silver-steel blade carved through whole ranks of troops and filled the caverns where she tread with blood and viscera. The path of pilgrimage that traced her steps had walls covered in the mere aftermath of her strikes that scared the caves themselves. “They are wicked creatures that sup on the blood of mortals, who murder for the sake of entertainment, and consume flesh for pleasure, and they number in the millions. I plead with the High Justiciar to call for unity across the continent to slay all these wicked creatures. The path to paradise should be tread by mortals without these creatures bearing down upon them.”

She spoke as a Champion of the Wardens of the Caverns should.

She valued the lives of all mortals in their present state. The enemy surrounded us, so she wished for us to solve danger, and then proceed on the path that our ancestors laid before us. Her mind was that of a warrior of the faith. Her heart was for the people, her sword-arm itched to ravage the enemy, and her life was meant to be spent to destroy the enemies of all mortals.

Any High Justiciar, myself included, would wish to be able to do as she wishes.

Alas, I could not pursue such a path.

“The path to paradise is one that has many thorns and branches. We must do our utmost to walk forward regardless of the danger and threat.” It is the will of the people. The heart and soul of the Wardens lie in the great work. The Cathedrals are almost finished. Soon, the vast majority of our people will be able to see Paradise for themselves. Then, then they will return with minds and hearts unclouded. Purpose shall be made clear. There is only one faith. Our faith in the paradise forged by our ancestors for all mortals. “I hear your words, Saintess of the Sword, but the gates must be opened and all peoples be granted passage.”

They will oppose us.

All of them will oppose us.

But we will do what is right for all peoples of this world.

All will be shown to Paradise and those that wish to return to fight with us will become part of a great and holy war that will cleanse the world of all suffering.

“I pray that your heart be steeled for the challenges that lie ahead, but I have faith that the Ancients have left us a gift beyond to see us reach the end of our great journey.” Sirena bowed and whispered a prayer of clarity at my words. She asked for forgiveness and I granted it without a moment’s hesitation. When she rose her head, she stood, and walked to the treasure that hundreds sacrificed their lives for in order to reach us. “Now, let us unseal that gift.”

 A pristine, pure-white coffin around which all the survivors knelt around. Sirena reached the base of the coffin and stood aside. It was composed of the same material as the miracles left behind by our forebears. Ever-cool to the touch, nigh-impenetrable, and this one was alive with the spark of power.

My heart raced.

I wondered if it could be possible that we found a divine entity as the King of Wisdom did. Though he called it a mere focus point of natural magics, those who were in its presence knew the truth: that under his control was a Goddess of Life. With a touch, the coffin of pure white came alive, and a hiss of frosty mist left the coffins. Lectures and scriptures of the time long ago trawled through my mind, as the power of the coffin escaped, and frost gathered at its base.

Then, raw and primal power nearly brought me to my knees, forcing me to struggle to stay upright and peer into the coffin.

Therein lay a young woman with the ears like our own, straight black hair, in an ebony dress of brocade, velvet, and lace. Her skin was as white as bone, and only her neck and lower jaw was plain to see, with all else on her form completely covered in her finery.  A veil attached to a bonnet covered the top her head and most of her face, barely allowing me to see her features through the sheerness of the lace. She slept on a bed of ebony flowers, each one carrying a scent that threatened to lull me to sleep forevermore.

My heart threatened to burst from my chest, but instead I knelt and so did all the others present.

Extending my arms outward, I let my worries fall away as I proclaimed the truth to the heavens.

“We have been blessed! The Ancients are with us! Through time itself, we have been granted the way forward onto salvation!” Simply closing my eyes in the Goddess’s presence allowed me to see Paradise. Not only that but I could move within it. I could reach out further and call upon more of our great heroes and finest minds. “Messengers! Call for the priest of our greatest Cathedral! We must see her interred properly for all our peoples and pilgrims to look upon in wonder! My brothers and sisters, we have been blessed beyond words and comprehension!”

I clasped my hands together and bowed my head in prayer, while all others save for the messengers did the same.

Though I rejoiced, I also wept.

Our current relations with our allies will surely break apart, and the King of Wisdom will not simply stand idly by and see her grow to her full strength.

The path ahead was one of pain, of agony, and wrath.  

But it is a path we must tread for the good of all mortalkind.

…

On one hand, it’s horrible that the Wardens managed to get the Goddess of Death.

On the other hand, the Goddess of Life pretty much hard-counters her.

It’s a whole rock-papers shtick with the three of them. War beats life, life beats death, and death beats war. Death is all about providing loads of debuffs and demerits to enemies, while giving some specific units and technologies that makes it easier to kill your enemies and destroy their morale. War gives bonuses towards enemies with health pools that are larger thanks to buffs, and anything above fifty percent health themselves. Again, there’s technology and units only available to the one who has the War Goddess in question.

The Goddess of Life provides increased health pools and regeneration to armies on the field. If you’re playing the game for the first time, she’s a godsend since she gives you more room to mess up. However, if you’ve played as much as I have, you’d appreciate being to kill your enemies faster, rather than keeping your units alive. You can keep your units alive through micro, while DPS increases need a lot investment in terms of time and money.

Stay out of the glowing circles and you’re fine, but gear score and buffs are hard to get, basically.

Anyway, the Death Goddess is great for the glass-cannon, revival style that the Wardens have. Their units have low health and damage resistance, but high attack. They’re geared towards killing their enemies quickly. With the Death Goddess’s debuffs making that DPS more effective, they’ll lose less troops in combat, get veterancy more quickly, and generally specialize into their niche more. The Goddess of Nature would just make their miniscule health pools decent, and the War Goddess’s units can’t be revived, so even with the buffs being decent, the rest of War’s kit would be wasted.

But back to the problem at hand.

I turned over to Ayah, who’s been looking grim since the news arrived from our own agents.

There’s really only one way to do this right.

“Inform Forgers, Merchants, and the Guardians of our findings. Prepare everything we have ready to activate. We must try to seize the Goddess that they have taken for ourselves. If we cannot, then we must either seal it away or destroy it.” We had actionable intel. We had assets. We can move much, much faster than them. Therefore, we should act. The Death Goddess upgraded itself with death. Death of your troops and the death of other’s troops. Lategame, she’s the best of the three, because everyone’s going to be doing a lot of dying. She could also become a faction leader, but that’s a shitshow I’d rather not have to deal with. Gods don’t make for great rulers, even with all the power that they have at their disposal. “This is our highest priority. Everything else will be on hold. The Wardens must be dealt with.”

Ayah bowed deeply at my statement. My servants were already all over the place and gathering my things to travel back. Since I could have a wardrobe in each Citadel, there wasn’t much, but it was still nice to not have to deal with it.

“Your majesty, I’ve taken the liberty of getting the reports from the scholars studying the power of the Goddess of Nature. They believe that a sufficiently powerful individual should be able to resist such an attack. The strength of the attack was also linked to the ambient power in the vicinity of the Goddess’s realm.” That made perfect sense. It was an AOE attack that go upgraded to do ludicrous damage thanks being cast in a specialized area. A Goddess of Life and Nature would naturally be able to go farther with nature and life in a place that she’s permeating with power and filled with faithful followers. Yeah, I definitely need to triple the amount of firepower I could put in that place, just in case. “We believe that groups of Iterants should be capable of evading a similar attack by the enemy Goddess.”

“I need volunteers. At least three hundred.” A unit of Iterants on the open field usually numbered that much. In the early game, if you sent out a Goddess with barely any experience, they’ll be able to fight like a Champion. A whole unit of mid-game class heavy troops with good evasion stats, high damage, and strong army should be enough to chunk a good deal of its help. Then, we can clean things up with Champions. “A vanguard force that will go ahead of the Champions. They will most likely be giving their lives for the nation by my command. Send out the missive. We need seventy-five from each Citadel, and they must be taken piecemeal. One department from the other and none in managerial positions. We have need of their minds and talents where they are.”

I glanced over at those in my retinue.

“None amongst your number. None of you have my permission to die.” I said it as a joke, but I received deep bows in return. Right, that joke fell apart really fast. All I wanted to do was make it clear that they were exempt from my command. I got a signal from one that everything was packed and ready to go, so I gave Ayah a nod. “Let’s go. Make sure that the ones left here are aware of my plans. Spring the trap and destroy them now, then sweep through the region for any remnants. We must focus on bringing the Wardens low, now.”

As much as I wanted to do something with a massive payoff over here, maybe capture some Scholar VIPs, the situation in the south demanded my attention. In-game, the Wardens were strong with the Goddess of Death. Here, it was obvious that the Goddesses needed more faith, resources, and power to get to their level 1 state. However, that can be solved with time and investment, and the fact that the Goddess of Life and Nature was already so strong without that was a sign that I didn’t want any other faction controlling a Goddess.

We move with everything that we have now, deny the enemy this keystone, and trigger the plots that we already have in motion.

With some luck, we can claim that we’ve seized the Death Goddess in order to keep it safe from the civil war engulfing the Wardens.

The theocratic civil war that we’ve put into motion. 2

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 16

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 16

…

Wordcount: 2500

…

Unfortunately, the transport didn’t have a large, pointy drill at the end. I guess that they figured out a better way to tunnel through in the week since I saw the model. Instead, it had some sort of sonic-drill that came out of emitters, broke down rocks, and shunted them off to the sides.

Honestly, it was disappointing.

What kind of underground transport doesn’t have a giant, pointy end?

I mean, I get it. It’s high-tech and basically swims through solid rock now, while being the size of a building. Without a doubt, it’s a machine that’s designed to give humanity a method to attack our enemies underground, while filling in the tunnel behind it to not give the enemy routes towards our own staging areas.

It would be cooler with a giant drill, though.

“Greetings, OS-549. I see that you’ve reconfigured your assault walker for the coming battle.” My operator for this mission was an AI that took over the communication screen. What used to just be an icon that would glow when speaking, the screen was now rendering a barely-clothed, blue female figure covered in code lines to keep decent. “Please, look over the list of support weapons that I have requisitioned and consider them for the battle.”

The subterranean transporter was already on the move. The lack of giant frontal drill allowed the chassis to carry more assets into battle.

One thing of note was a drone swarm.

My raised eyebrow at the swarm was enough for the AI to explain.

“I understand your concerns. You believe they may be able to co-opt the drones.” Generally speaking, you don’t fight against the automated, sentient machines with anything that can be hacked. However, from the smile on the AI’s face, I suspected that wouldn’t be a problem. “I am designed to capture a general of their people and break it down, OS-549. Rest assured, their usual arrays will have no effect on anything under my control.”

I was tempted to argue, but I decided to just shrug and nod, before moving onto the rest of the list.

The specialized e-war smoke dispensers were present, along with some arrays of micro-missiles for me to call in on specific targets, and those two were what I wanted the most. As long as I had those two things, everything else was gravy.

Would it suck if the micro-drones armed with thermite charges were suddenly against me?

Yeah, but that’s what point defenses are for.

And, I had a lot of that on the super-heavy configuration of Gray Corpse.

Barely below thirty tons, the mech was covered in ablative armor along with spacers. Then, atop that, I put explosive reactive armor. In terms of layers, it was ERA, ablative armor, space, and then the toughest armor I could get. In terms of effective armor thickness, I was nearing 0.7 meters, or 700mm, and it was in in composites and materials composed by a humanity with the material science necessary to build space elevators and orbital battlestations. Half of my mech was basically armor, which had all sorts of effects on the rest of the machine.

I had to choose between retaining the amount of boost that I had, or lowering it so that I could still boost in an instant with a larger amount of fuel expended. Since dodging was something that I found essential, I bit the bullet and lowered the amount of ‘stamina’ my mech had. While I had a lot of armor, not getting hit was still preferred.

The armor also covered up a lot of the regular sensor points on the mech, so I had to get some external augments wired up to compensate.  In tandem with that, the various mechanisms within the mech needed to be upgraded to accommodate the extra weight of the armor.

Basically, more armor meant needing a whole slew of changes to the whole machine, and more power draw from the reactor.

So, high-energy draw weapons were out of the question.

Therefore, while it’s really cool to fight killer robots with plasma weapons, I generally went with a lot of kinetics and explosives. The rampant robots were the best-armored of the trio of extinction-level events gunning for humanity. They were around the same tech level as the arcologies and their machines didn’t have to worry about things like human limits and life support systems. That meant more room for armor, vital systems more deeply embedded into their frames, and more power to spare.

Armor piercing and high-explosive anti-tank were the best options.

“According to my research, the weapons you’re about to employ against our current foes are considered ineffective. Generally, particle cannons and railguns are used.” The AI acting as my adjutant chimed in, and I gave a hum. That was right. Particle cannons and railguns were both great at overcoming the defenses the automated beasties had. Automatic railguns were fantastic and I loved seeing tungsten spikes zip through the air and burn up atmosphere in their passing. Particle cannons just looked cool as the sent out beams that made innumerable small holes throughout the enemy, destroying vital systems completely. “The weapons you are using have a low power draw, but the amount of ammunition you have is quite limited.”

I gave a hum in response at the AI’s words, debated going along with its charade, before just deciding to talk to it.

“I’m pretty sure you already have access to my records, so I think you’re trying to make some sort of relationship with me by buttering me up.” My accuracy records with my currently equipped weapons should be enough to assuage the AI. Therefore, it mentioning it was trying to get me to praise myself for it to agree. Obviously, it had an angle. 

“Hm. You are less egotistical than your profile suggests. And, more socially perceptive.”

“Sure.” I gave another shrug. No point in giving the thing more data points. It was probably cross-analyzing me against terabytes of information as we spoke. What else would it do with its massive brain while I took days or weeks to reply in its perspective? “How about we cut to the chase? What do you want and what can you offer me?”

“I see. The onus is entirely on myself. Perfect. OS-549, I offer you the chance to become my preferred pilot. You fight with my support in select missions, and I will assist you in your aims to become ever-stronger.”

So, I get dangerous missions that require a super-advanced AI purpose-built to handle the rabid artificial intelligences out to kill human missions, and I get its support as such an AI.

“Alright, I’ll take it. Help me out, and I’ll help you.” I gave the AI a thumb’s up, and for a moment the digital construct in the screen smiled, before flickering away.

I thought that was that, but sensors suddenly came alive and it chimed back at me.

“Hold on. I’m detecting some sort of interceptor platforms coming our way. I will fight against them—

“How far are we from the deployment zone?”

“Five minutes.”

I started running the numbers in my head, recalling the operational timetable, but the AI beat me to it.

“If we deploy too soon, you’ll be confronting an entire enemy base before the initial salvo of missiles and artillery hits. In fact, you’ll be likely to be struck in the crossfire.”

It was right. My part of the operation took place after the artillery hit, when the secret battlestation locked down quantum communications, and before the main force arrived to destroy the massive gun.

But there was still a way.

“The battlestation is already up there and ready to deploy, right?”

“…You will only have seven minutes to destroy the target and return to the vessel for exfiltration, before the saturation attack hits the area.”

“They have a massive underground complex, right? I can hide out in there, kill everything that comes after me, and get out once the main force arrives. You can get away with the prisoner.” Mission parameters changing during the intro cutscene has always been a thing. Usually, the initial meeting going over the mission is just a framework to set up expectations. The enemy always has a say in our plans, and that came in the form of some sort of underground interceptor. “Sound good?”

The AI was silent for a while.

“I will support this new plan to the utmost of my ability. Do your utmost to live. Having an asset such as yourself at my disposal is imperative to my plans.”

Looks like my swift decision making got me into the AI’s good book.

“Focus fire on any emplacements and scatter as much E-Smoke as you can. Besides that, just get the net ready.” I cracked my knuckles, went through what little prep work I had left, and got ready. The transport was already turning upward and climbing fast up and out of the ground onto the surface. “This is going to be a bit tricky.”

“If by tricky, you mean lethal, I agree.”

Whoever programmed this AI sure had a great sense of humor.

…

Interlude: Edith: The Shackler

…

The transport breached the surface, and OS-549 launched himself outward via the emergency ejection mechanism. Despite being in a massive, thirty-ton machine, he accelerated to two hundred kilometers an hour in just a few seconds, and burst out of the armored escape shell into multiple lines of fire.

With my processing ability, I was able to destroy forty percent of the weapons that swiveled to attack him. Another forty percent had their vision blocked by E-War smoke. The remaining twenty percent that fired upon him with plasma-based bolts struck his armor… and lowered its effectiveness by less than half-a-percentage point.

He responded with his own weapons.

The infantry units were dispatched by point defense fire from multiple points all over the machine. The weapon system was recently provided by a mega-corporation of one of his classmates. It spat large munitions with explosive warheads at enemies and was supplemented by ballistic point defenses. 201 infantry units were destroyed along with their various small-arms.

With his arm-based weapons, he focused on armored targets. The semi-automatic cannons utilized 120mm shells. In the right arm, the box magazine was filled with armor-piercing shells. The left had high-explosive anti-tank. He aimed them independently of one another, and with singular, precise shots, destroyed targets. Light Armored Vehicles armored with anti-tank missiles and particle cannons received high explosive, sending them flying away as burning wreckages. Large tanks with railguns trundling to get a lock through electronic warfare and chaff received a high-density SABOT dart right where their turret and chassis met, skewering reactors in an instant.

His point-defense weapons and auxiliary weapons spat out a stream of bullets at lesser enemies, their accuracy rate falling within averages expected of a skilled pilot.

OS-549’s shots with his handheld weapons, meanwhile, were at a 100%.

In approximately one minute, twenty railgun MBTs, eighty LAVs, and 394 infantry units were destroyed.

Five percent of his effective armor was gone.

This mission would be mathematically impossible to fail, if not for the underground interceptors that forced us to rise early.

“Target status?”

“Approaching.” I answered his query, and highlighted the target. No. Targets. “High-priority target is accompanied by two Assault Walker equivalents.”

“Saturate them with anything you left. Take the one on the right out.” He responded simply against the impossible odds that he was given. He ignited his boosters and readied his shoulder-mounted weapons. Missiles. He shot them forward towards the same target he gave me, but aimed his weapons on the leftmost foe… along with his entire mech. He had his hands on the explosive release for the extra armor plates. I realized what was happening as the merge became inevitable. “Activate the jammer!”

He referred to the secret device built for this purpose.

A device that may never work again after this moment.

Success hinged on him defeating three other Assault Walkers, which should be impossible.

The best course of action would be to not use the weapon. To keep it hidden, destroy the gun, and retreat before my existence is known.

To wait for another.

However, my creator’s words resounded throughout my being:

“If you doubt him: don’t.”

Such simple words, full of faith in this young man she barely knew for weeks, yet with those words I activated the culmination of half a decade of work. A weapon made for this singular instance, carefully created by my creator, along with myself. A trap to capture a rebelling artificial intellect for the first time in known history with me as the warden. All logical processes called for me to retreat and to leave, but I decided against it as per my creator’s commands.

The quantum jamming activated in an instant… and the salvo of missiles destroyed one of the Assault Walkers coming at OS-549.

It burst into a cloud of fragments as explosives shredded it in an instant.

Leaving the other two to lay fire upon him.

Streams of plasma bolts and particle fire slammed into his machine. Effective armor depleted swiftly as they merged. His machine was rocked and damage signals blared, while he fired upon the remaining extra Assault Walker. His shots hit, destroying sensors, and coring the enemy, destroying it… but the chassis of the enemy intellect remained completely functional, while he lost eighty percent of his effective armor.

He had one foe left, but it oustripped him in every way.

Even with increased speed, even with support, every fact around the scenario dictated that he would be destroyed by the rampant machine.

Then, suddenly, he activated his side-boosters, swerving hard to the right, and turned a passing merge into a crash with his target at the center.

Smoldering ablative plates covered in plasma and superheated particles was ejected off the frame, turning into makeshift explosive chaff that blew back the target’s Assault Walker form. Eight tons of armor sped forward, accelerated to hundreds of kilometers, and crashed into the target. The damage was largely superficial, it was too highly armored, but that was not the point.

The target activated frontal thrusters to brake, to avoid the attack, and made a critical error.

It gave OS-549 initiative.

Gray Corpse burst through the cloud of detached armor at full speed, after the target evaded the explosive armor removal. It’s reactor flared up, every booster was at maximum, every point-defense, auxiliary weapon, and main weapon was firing… with all the mech’s weight and speed concentrated on two, armored feet.

I registered OS-549’s pilot suit keeping him alive, cracking ribs in the process, and blood pouring from his ears and nostrils and eyes. He had gone supersonic, while setting off multiple explosives around his mech, and while turning and twisting his multi-ton machine in mere meters of space to kick his opponent’s Assault Walker torso with twenty tons of supersonic war machine.

Firing all his weapons at once was unnecessary.

Twenty tons of mass at supersonic speed was more than enough burst straight through the enemy’s core and force it out into the trap that was prepared.

V9: Chapter 10

V9: Chapter 10

…

Cool, they found the Academy’s secret space station.

In-game, the loot table for it was pretty horrible and generally not considered worth the effort of taking. Players have the option to destroy it from range, and generally they do, because the Tier 2, mini-boss units they deploy are basically death machines that mulch melee units and outrange most T1 ranged units. Even with just ‘one unit’ worth of models, the Ancient War Machines can do severe damage to any army that you send against them.

They may even kill the Champion you attach to the force.

However, thanks to this being real life, I wasn’t limited.

Or, rather, Riegert wasn’t limited, and he called in Rita, and she was able to snipe them from afar without risking everyone else’s lives. The report read like some sort of modded, ‘fixed’ event where the players step in to solve a problem. In this case, the problem was viewed as terribly powerful enemies for shitty loot. Instead of making the loot better, they just provided a skip to the enemies if you have the right Champion. Rita was that Champion in this case, and she killed them all, then the facility was searched without any issue.

It was just a flaming sword that gave some decent damage, never broke, and is a big reference to all other legendary swords that are covered in fire. Sure, it was effective in putting dots on targets, and testing showed that the flames it cast could somehow melt enemy armor without melting or harming the user, but it was just a weapon. In fact, I wondered if I could just stick it into a constant stream of water and generate electricity with it, because nothing it did couldn’t be done by a napalm strike conducted by my air force.

However, I did end up lucky, because the corpses of the Ancient War Machines didn’t just disappear into the ether and just turn into XP. Instead, we now had examples of fully automatic rotary assault cannons, as well as a powerful heat ray. Not only that, but the metals of the machines could be analyzed, their joints and stabilizers reverse-engineered, and we were basically looking at Ascendant basic soldiers before they showed up to fuck us over. Finally, the station didn’t just blow up and stop working, either. Parts and pieces of it remained and we were carting it over to a site where it can be studied away from critical areas, but still be predicted.

The legendary flaming sword that can set armies alight and cook people around the wielder alive is very great for Ilych. The fact that she’s dual-wielding great swords, one that gives her lifesteal and the other one sets her enemies on fire and passively kills them, is amazing. She’s melee-spec’d, thus the item is very much an upgrade to her kit.

But the recovered bodies and the deconstructed space station are infinitely more valuable.

Those two keep Ilych alive and dealing damage against her enemies.

The wrecked robots and the space station give us technology that everyone in my nation can use.

It’s no contest.

The wrecks and the ruin are amazing.

Besides having mages and scholars surrounded by books and wooden furniture disassembling mechs is super cool!

…

A turn passed, and springtime came.

Not that I’d know how spring felt, since Scholar’s Rest was a perpetually cold mountain range with few valleys suitable for agriculture. Scholars took the region thanks to needing far less food and being technologically advanced. If I recalled correctly, they increased yields in their farming regions by using geothermal springs in the early game, developing automat that farmed for them in midgame, and finally cracking the code on food fabricators in the late game, so that they just needed sunlight and a bit of magic to make food as they wanted.

I secured as many Scholars as I could and had them working solely on agricultural projects. Hopefully, I’d crack that tech tree, but they were doing enough of a good job figuring out fertilizer and pesticides that I couldn’t complain. If their cracking of the code on how to develop those machines came from having to live in a low-food environment like Scholar’s Rest, I’ll be shit out of luck, so I was making sure to store as much food as possible, anyway.

But back to the turn.

We had the remains of the Scholars by the balls.

“Eight infiltrators all detected without their own knowledge. Well done, Ayah. The trap you suggested was perfect.”

 “You flatter me, my king.” Ayah gave a prim bow. She was clad in a thick, pure white fur coat over her normal maid dress and walked beside me on the open-air terrace on the Citadel. Her tan disguise was a bit paler than usual, since she was emulating the fact that she wasn’t as sun-kissed as she usually was. Anyway,  I was enjoying a hot cup of cider in the cold. Could I drink inside? Yeah, but hot drinks taste way better in the cold. I don’t make the rules. “The tool and surveillance methods were yours. I merely provided a decent addition.”

The decent addition was to have Iterants house metal detectors in their forearms and change the beeping noise made to noiseless vibration.

Viola!

The Iterants can scan for metal objects with their arms, thus opening up a myriad of methods to check for the brain implant.  

It was perfect out of the box thinking, which led to our method of detection never being picked up, and no counters being made.

Now, the Iterants had eight agents trying to climb up the ranks in our city.

Each one compromised and watched at all times.

We caught them early enough in their plan that it was easy enough to disrupt their movements. Four of the eight tried to become merchants to nearby villages so that they can establish communications networks. Three worked to become clerks at the at the gatehouses on the city’s outermost walls, so that they could have a say in who gets in and out. One finally got into an alchemist apprenticeship with the intention of becoming a scholar, which was a common enough job.

It was the beginnings of an infiltration operation that would take years to accomplish. After getting communication lines and people at the gates, they’ll let more bodyswappers in, and eventually get enough people in that they could do some serious disrupting. If they got enough people at the gates, they can start clearing the way for more infiltrators. Clerks can report missing or rotting supplies, when they’re in fact perfectly fine, and smuggle them out to their own people. Merchants can never deliver vital goods like medicine, claiming they’ve vanished, and people die in nearby villages.  Alchemists have licenses to handle dangerous substances, and getting access to such supplies would be great for any budding ‘resistance’ movement.

Eventually, they can do more with more infiltrators, until they penetrate defenses deep enough that they can try for something big.

Like an assassination.

However, as of now, we had them in the palm of our hands.

Because we let the communications lines get established, and we had the fake merchants followed to their desired villages.

They did everything as they were supposed to, but midway through their journey, they dropped off hidden bags strapped to their bodies beneath their clothes.

Figures rose out of the snow when they did, covered in metal and gears, and they retrieved the satchels before using a combination of technology and magic to make themselves meld lightly into the environment.
After that, it took them long, circuitous routes to return to their true destinations… while the Iterants watched.

Now, our plans were bearing fruit, as we uncovered their safe houses and unraveled operation.

“I’m tempted to counter-infiltrate them. Take one of the Merchants and replace them with an Iterant.”

“We could most certainly try, my lord.”

“No, it’s a passing temptation. It wouldn’t be wise. They may have codes and phrases that we don’t know, established from the very start.” That was Espionage 101. Hell, it was Combat 101. You have a two-step phrase that people can repeat at one another to identify friendlies. Someone says thunder, another one says flash. Anyone says anything besides flash, you shoot them. “Iterants can’t be wasted for mere possibility. Our goal is to find them, kill them swiftly, and discover all that we can.”

Khanrow went off with Morgan to teach her a bit, before taking over the situation with the Wardens. That was slowly bearing fruit with our Anti-Khalai faction picking up steam. We needed to establish security for our puppet. Who better than Khanrow and a few dozen shapeshifting killer robots?

“Your majesty, for your vision, we would risk our lives without hesitation. Please, do not hesitate to use us.” One of the Iterants spoke up from behind Ayah. It earned itself a glare from the Ancient Administrator. They were clad similarly to Ayah. Maid dresses with furred coats over them. Their coats were black, though. The speaker went by Rebecca, I was sure. Spectacles and long, straight red hair. Yep, that’s Rebecca. Martine was the one with straight hair and had a monocle. Jean was blonde with the braids and half-spectacles. “We live to serve the King of Wisdom.”

Really, these guys were just itching to kill people. I mean, massive props for being one flavor or another of maid with eye-wear, but they’re all itching to shapeshift and murder.

Sometimes, I thought about Ayah’s warnings about them and wondered if I should’ve listened about keeping these guys around like slaves.

Yeah, nah.

I’d rather these guys be eager to kill my enemies rather than me.

“And, I have decided that course of action is not the one that shall be taken.” I reminded them as well as I could that I was in charge. Was I very aware of the fact that they could all transform into humanoid masses of flensing blades that I couldn’t do anything against? Yep. That’s why I was reminding them instead of admonishing them. “The Iterants will move cautiously, gather information first, and strike with absolute supremacy. That is my decision.”

“Yes, my king. Your subject hears and obeys.” Thankfully, Rebecca complied instantly, curtsying and bowing her head, whilst getting back into line. I took a sip of my drink. It was thankfully still on the warm side. Hm. How hard would it be to mass-produce thermoses? “This one is grateful that her words were heard.”

I gave a small nod in reply, before moving onto the next matter of the meeting and looking towards Ayah. She’s stepped close enough to my left that glancing over at her to look at her eyes made it necessary for my eyes to crest past her chest. She was wearing a white apron over a modest black dress, but everything was well-fitted and tailored to the body-line. That meant that the frilly top part of the white apron was encompassing a lot of chest area. Chest area that I nearly had to crane my head past to look at Ayah’s face.

Thank you, Scholar’s Rest, for being so cold that I’m already flushed.

“The next matter is regarding the mining outposts in the area. They are reporting unknown tracks in their perimeter. Tracks that are very similar to the similar to those left by the Scholar’s agents that we’ve been following.”

“They must be looking for shipments of materials to intercept after they’ve been dug out.” I did my best to work and ignore what was between my eyes and Ayah’s. It was a desperate struggle, but I won out by turning my gaze towards the horizon of snow-capped mountains in the distance and taking a sip of my drink. Yes. I won by basically running away. A battle avoided is a battle won, after all.  “Set up guards. We need those resources and lines intact.”

We could theoretically bait them to be stolen, then track them down, but that risks experienced porters, materials, and more.

Let’s keep things as nice and simple as possible.

Adding more complexity is just asking for trouble.

“Next?”

“There is a request from the Alchemist Guild branch here at Scholar’s Rest for a meeting.”

“What do they need?”

“They are requesting for specific materials accessible at our capital but not here.” I gave a hum at that. I put my cup down, so that it could be refilled. Steam came forth from the pot, while more of my drink was ladled into my cup. We were going to be at this for another hour, so I sat back in my chair and enjoyed the view and the heated drinks. “Incendiary-aligned reagents?”

“Yes, for their efforts to produce a better explosive.” Miners usually used magic to excavate. Groups of them activated staffs built for the purpose of mining and turned tunnel ends into rubble. It was fairly effective and safe, but greatly constrained the miners. After expending their power, all they could do is ferry broken rocks onto containers to be ferried out. As dangerous as mining explosives are, the miners will be able to save their energy for enhancing their bodies if they didn’t have to power the staffs. There was a greater risk with the explosives with natural gas pockets or coal veins, but magic existed and I had people looking into ways to look for substances that could ignite. If those were present, we’ll fall back on the tried-and-true method. If they weren’t, then we can use explosives. “The whole guild has been investigated, my lord. None have been found to be infiltrators, or holding any treasonous motives. They also have families that we can easily secure.”

Ignoring that last part for the sake of my mental health.

“Set the meeting, but inform them to be ready to present their current works according to our academic standards. Fifteen minutes of presentation at most. I shall see their progress first, then make my decision.” My words earned me a bunch of nods. Were they being kind and generous, or pitying me for having such a basic-bitch approach to handling the situation? Whichever was the case, I wasn’t about to worry that much. No need to be a trailblazer for every decision in life. Standard gets the job done without fuss. “Next?”

Ayah continued, while I continued to sip on my drink, while enjoying the sun beginning to set amidst the mountains.

This turn was ending soon, and in a few months, the alliance against us was going to start showing cracks. Some of them were natural, but others were created by us or their own lack of coordination and goals with one another.

Their cracks will show, and anything I missed will show up as well.

This’ll be our last chance to gain ground, until we all have to just buckle up and do our best against the tidal wave of foes that were going to rush us with everything that they had.

V9: Chapter 9

V9: Chapter 9

…

Wow, Celia survived the assassination event.

Guess that I need to prepare to deal with her for a couple of decades.

“Ayah, start supporting and aiding the Guardians from the shadows. Celia has no choice but to start accepting our help now.” Ayah gave a prim bow, while Morgan looked up from her plate, and Khanrow just kept eating. We were having breakfast. Instead of a newspaper, I read up on espionage reports. “If things go well, we can have Undead armies to hold the line. If Celia proves to be uncontrollable, we’ll replace her, too.”

“Revolutions tend to consume themselves with time. The same fanatics she’s used to wrest control from the nobility can be aimed towards herself.” Khanrow agreed, as I passed him the sheaf of papers. He was having a bowl of soup for breakfast, along with some boiled eggs and toast. Morgan was having the same. Meanwhile, I was having steamed vegetables and fish. Being in my early twenties, I wanted to look out for my health. Sure, I could just abuse the medical pods to stay slim and look good, but I didn’t want to make a routine of it. I didn’t want to rely on technology that I might not have access to when I retire. Felt like a psychopath on a CEO grindset eating it for breakfast, though.  “We should be on the watch for Necromancers who abandon the Guardians. Extremism has moderates leave swiftly.”

Morgan said nothing for a few moments, before throwing up her hands.

“Fine! Allow me to ask: wouldn’t it be better to take over the Guardians now, while they’re weak and their nobility are all entering seclusion?”

I looked at Khanrow, and he looked at me.

He took a spoonful of soup and slurped it, so I took that as my cue to explain.

“They are secluding themselves now, but if we invade, they’ll come out in force and ride out as conquering heroes. If they have the chance to avoid their seclusion, they’ll take it. In fact, I believe that they only enter it now because they know they’ll be needed in a few years.” It must be nice to just be able to hole up in a mountain after fucking up politically. After literally losing the nation they had by the balls, because they couldn’t be bothered to be proactive, the nobility of the Guardians could just pack up, carve into a mountain, and seal the entrance to sleep off their loss. The wonders of not being able to enter suspended animation. “We attack now, and we’ll find whatever army we send turned to mulch by Guardians and all the Elder Vampires left on the planet. Then, we’ll need to commit everything to not waste those lost lives. We can win, if we commit all our offensive forces, but the losses would be too great.”

“I see. I need to work on my long-term views on many matters.” Morgan shook her head and frowned at herself. I wasn’t about to agree, but I didn’t disagree. Lying to her felt like a good way to get killed. Telling her that she should work on another skill sounded like a good way to get killed. The best course of action is to stay neutral and talented enough to be worth keeping around and not mind-fucked. Hm. Steamed fish and vegetables is quite good for breakfast. I’d rather have a soup, though. Something with a light broth would be great. “I broached the matter of gaining more responsibility. I would like to have as much responsibility as my grandfather or General Riegert.”

The Demon Lord made her move, and I was in no place to refuse.

So, I didn’t.

“Do you want the center, the north, or the south?” Morgan blinked and looked at me like I’d grown a second head. Or, maybe, like I was eating steamed fish and vegetables for breakfast like a freak. Likely the former. Her head was probably filled with ideas on how to wheedle out more power from me. Not necessary in the slightest. I wanted to use the Demon Lord to her fullest extent. Champion and general was the most effective way to do that. It’s better to get specialized Champions for the cities. “The north is here against the Guardians, which will be mostly immobile. South will be against the Wardens. The center against the Merchants and the Forgers when the time comes.”

“The center is the most dynamic.” Khanrow spoke up. Yeah, there’s another piece of the puzzle. The man who gave me my power was right here on the table. What was I supposed to do? Tell her in front of her grandfather that she’s not worthy of being a general? I’m paranoid, but I’m not stupid. Not only that, but brown-nosing, knowing the atmosphere, and game knowledge have practically been my only real assets this life. I couldn’t train my game knowledge, but I trained heavily in understanding the atmosphere and knowing what to say to get people to like me. Obviously, Khanrow will like me more by promoting his only granddaughter. “You’ll learn the most there, and you can provoke the Merchants and Forgers to test you and your troops. Put them to the sword in the Academy’s former lands to learn how to move your forces.”

Yeah.

I’m not about to say no to the rejuvenated warlord who thinks that conducting war is a good way to earn experience in leading troops.

“…I shall take the center, then. I don’t believe I’m capable enough to take the north or the south, especially in the middle of such intricate plots.” Intricate? Morgan was buttering me up now, after getting what she wanted. Over here, we were just letting people make mistakes on their own, while against the Wardens we were just funding their opposition and ratcheting up the tension. It’s basic bitch geo-espionage. It’s not even on a different continent. This is stuff that people would just skim over in college history class, or swipe past in a thirty-second video reel. Boring, practical shit. “How many will be under my command?”

Khanrow coughed at the question.

Almost sounded like he was stifling a laugh.

“Your command will be the center of the continent. You will assume control of the region. Khanrow and Riegert’s responsibilities when I send them out is to act as rulers.” Morgan blinked owlishly. The general statement when she spoke about Riegert probably made her believe that she could just work the espionage layer and fight off some bandits with a full army, unless otherwise ordered. That wasn’t the case in the slightest. Orders take too long to get to people, even with our best fliers and the simple communication tablets provided by the Citadels in our territories. “You will take control of our largest settlement in Academy lands, elevate the surrounding villages to the best of your ability, and do your duties as a general while learning spycraft. Your grandfather and Riegert are not mere generals. They are royalty when they act. So, you shall be royalty in your new position.”

Khanrow looked at his granddaughter’s way, and for a moment I thought that he’d say something, before looking away pleased.

Morgan’s owlish expression had faded in a moment, and she nodded with determination at my statement.

“I’ll do it, and I won’t fail, your majesty.”

“I entrust you with the center of our realm and the defeat of two of our remaining foes. I look forward to seeing the results of your work.”

Morgan’s eyes were steely and her determination to win obvious.

Alright, the Forgers and Merchants are effectively dead with Morgan hounding them, that means I can focus on dealing with the Guardians and Wardens.

…

Interlude: Rita

…

We arrived at the crater described by Riegert, at the camp he assembled, and found at its center a mechanical beast being taken apart.

Riegert looked upon it, seated on a crate, with fresh bandages all over his torso.

And, newly healed flesh all over his arms and non-vital areas.

Ilych approached him and took off her helm without a word.

She glared at her father.

“No need, I’ve learned my lesson already. I’m not trying that again, especially as my armor’s been destroyed.” He jutted his bearded chin towards the armor in question. Composed of Citadel Alloys, it was stronger and lighter than steel. Regular rounds from our riflemen would bounce off it with ease. Only Conqueror anti-material rifles and the new cannons could penetrate it. The armor was covered in holes. Some were molten. “The Ancient’s war machines are not to be underestimated.”

“How many did you kill?”

“Five, then I had to retreat. The fifth watched and waited, then nearly killed me. They learn.” Riegert gestured at the creature. It was the size of two horses side-by-side, and was crab-like in shape. It had four armored legs with sturdy joints, and its torso was sleek and oval. Were it bipedal, it would have resembled the Ascendant and their war-walkers. These looked far more advanced. “My axe was useful, but magic more so. I had to get creative. Use earth walls to obscure their lines of fire. They can see through smoke, and if you stop for a moment then they’d fill you full of holes. Some sort of heat spell and bullets close to the munitions our new cannons are using.”

The creature had two sets of weapons One on top of the hull and the other set underslung. Both sets had joints and connected to the oval torso with ball-like joins on the back. An impeccable design. It can fire at nearly every direction. It can do so even whilst retreating. Its armor was strong, given the amount of damage it had on it.

 Riegert’s efforts to destroy it ranged from deep gouges on its armor to the signs of lightning piercing it through. He wouldn’t have done so much damage, were it not necessary.

Only one last piece of information was needed for me to grasp the basics of this creature.

“It’s speed?”

“As fast as a Conqueror in full sprint, no matter the direction, and it doesn’t tire.” Riegert answered, and I understood.

Fifty of these creatures, but five were gone.

“I shall deal with the rest. Ilych, stay close with our guards, should the need arise. Mages, prepare protective barriers.” I reached for my bow and my quiver. The camp was close enough to the crater that it was only a few strides to reach its edge. After I spoke, Ilych placed her helmet on her head, while the troops under our command moved to do as they were bid. Protective spells effective against cannon shots and heat were established. The mages assigned to us having listened to Riegert’s words. I simply nocked my arrow and prepared to draw my bow, as I crested the ridge formed by the crater. “Have the cannons prepared, just in case they charge.”

Ilych gave out the commands and assembled our forces, whilst coordinating with those under Riegert’s command.

I looked upon my foes, surrounding the ruined construct, in the middle of the crater.

Some were patrolling loosely in squads of four. Others were clambering on the broken vessel, casting spells on the hull to try and fix it, and others were hidden away in the ruins and waiting for the moment to strike.

They will not have it.

Riegert’s presence came close and he spoke to me.

“Their weak spot is the rightmost section of their shell. The glowing red orb at the center, and the rest of the chassis, are all tricks. That rightmost section is perfectly angled, just like the left, and it’s harder than the center.”

I gave him a nod of thanks… and the world faded away.

Until only I and my foes remained.

Points between which my arrows must travel from and to.

Then, the world returned when they were all destroyed.

…

Much of the vessel was destroyed. Only fragments of ancient technology remained.

However, as our king predicted, there were parts of it that was designed to withstand returning from the stars.

“This wreckage fits the description of the Academy’s flying transport.” The large construct that allowed our enemies to evade Morgan was ruined. Half of it was nothing more than metal and tubes that were in complete disarray. The other half was burnt and broken. However, the vessel was still partly complete, thus it would be of use. Much like the remains of the machines that we destroyed. “Take it whole and ready it for transport. Levitate it and travel along the roads, if it cannot be flown.”

A smattering of commands resounded through those who followed me.

Ilych took that as a signal to speak.

“Much of the vessel was destroyed upon re-entry, but there are places that remain. The sparks that come from many locations mean there is power.” Ilych’s winds were in full force. She looked upon the great doors separating where the transport was and the rest of the destroyed structure… and pressed imprints upon it. In a moment, with a great groan, the doors opened. Inside was a an askew walkway with many rooms. She paused as she looked into the hall, even as our mages cast orbs of light into it. “This was a hall of miracles and curses, suspended among the stars, and the Academy kept it for themselves.”

“If there are any curses, we must burn this place.”

“The curses all burned first. It has tried to keep the miracles whole… but it has failed.” A touch of somber regret filled Ilych’s tone. I followed her into the askew hallway. The hall was flanked by doors and containers. Many were sealed shut, and more than a few were nothing but ash within. However, in a few rooms, the doors were open and broken remains of Ancient treasures remained. Ilych’s steps almost stopped at the sight of them, but she simply ordered them recovered and treated with care for possible recovery.

Her steps hastened as she walked further in.

I took note of the parts and pieces of a human skeleton deeper into the hall, and I had my suspicions on who it was, but there was no soul clinging to the bones.

Even if it were the headmaster of the Academy, the time to converse with him was long past.

Finally, we reached the end.

A single room with a door with a blue light surrounding it remained.

One final miracle from the Ancients, desperately held by the spirits of this place, even under the command to fall from the heavens?

Or, perhaps, a curse?

Ilych looked my way, and I gave her a nod.

We will not know until we open the doors.

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 54

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 54

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Sivantic.

…

“It began with a parasite that we found in the depths. An expedition mounted by mages to find better materials for their equipment. In doing so, they found strange land far below.” Lassandra’s grandfather, the former king of this land, ate while informing me of the source of the parasite. He unsealed records from his time, aged parchment kept in tubes of stones and sealed with wax at both ends bearing the royal seal. “It was in the shape of an egg, and in it there was a strange world that was barely kin to our own.”

The record unfurled before me.

The former king had not embellished his words in the slightest.

I looked upon a map of a vast area with the forest kingdom’s metrics showed to be the size of a region. They described a world where water was constant from above. Strange trees grew upon pools of water alive with life. Bioluminescent algae cast everything in a blue glow, and in the waters and trees, an ecosystem thrived. In the massive, egg-shaped cavern, the creature that was the source of the current parasites came to be.

“They called it a parasitic mimic. A creature that engulfs the body of its prey and fills them with magic and signals to entrance them, so that they can consume the creature.” A similar creature to what I knew as the parasite was outlined. The original creature had small legs aligned all over its sides which were connected by a thin membrane. Rather than not having a mouth, it had a long tube that it inserted into its prey to drink them of their vitality.  It was not a parasite. It was a simple predator that fit into an evolutionary niche. “They took note of a simple fact: all the creatures in this realm rapidly advanced and changed with each generation.”

“They refined the creature to make use of it. They took the traits that they wanted and emphasized them.” It was simple evolution, but accelerated thanks to the oddities of this world. It was the same as choosing the sheep with the most wool over countless centuries, then finding oneself with sheep that will overheat and die, if they are ever without shearers. In the case,  they must have thought to rob the parasite of its ability to feed. “They took away its ability to consume blood, then they thought infesting monsters with them will result in monsters eating plants, starving themselves while feeding the creature.”

The plan was laid out on a piece of paper, and I interpreted it swiftly. The intentions of the scholars and mages were plain as can be. They espoused the creature as a way to control the population of monsters all over the kingdom. Kept sealed in dark containers, unable to reproduce, and only eating plants, they were to be weapons that would be unleashed on mighty monsters. Creatures that would sublimate and become part of terrifying monsters, and dispatch them and themselves through starvation.

An elegant solution that evolution laughed at.

The creature lost their ability to reproduce with time, and as well as their ability to eat, but in turn they learned how to split them into different creatures and to sup on the source of this world’s miracles. They learned to do this in a land sustained by and filled with arcane power.

The result was obvious.

“We lost control. They took over their whole realm and forced us out, and in that realm, they ruled supreme.” The next large sheet of the immense scroll showcased all manner of creatures reported in the deep land that the kingdom found. Numerous monsters with incredible bodies. Fish that could fly for minutes on end and spear through their foes with their bodies. Batlike creatures that shot out screams which could shatter eardrums. Alligators with better developed limbs, that allowed them to swim, climb, and swing from tree branches. They took these creatures and used them, before taking over mortal bodies. Bodies of learned mages and scholars capable of embarking on expeditions into the unknown. Not just bright minds, but healthy ones with the training and skills to survive. “When we sent a second expedition to scour the place, the survivors never reported, and we only caught them as they tried to attack us with their bodies instead of trying to infiltrate. It was decided that we would try again… and we found the tunnels and lands filled with the same darkness that now encompasses our whole nation. This power we could not repel was the masterwork of the Archmage that headed the expedition. A weapon developed by us to conquer neighboring nations.”

They weren’t just fooled, then.

They were absolutely overwhelmed and overcome by their new foes learning all that they could.

“After that expedition, it was decided that it would be needed to create the counter to the thesis put forward by the same archimage, in case it is used to its utmost potential. From that third expedition, we began our work to create this tree of light, as well as having more sons and daughters capable of carrying the burden.” Elric outlined the whole truth of the matter with a scowl on his face. He tapped the date of the final expedition. I counted back from the realm’s current date. This plan has been in place for three generations. Starting at the very end of his father’s reign and the start of his own. Two lines showcased the estimated time it would take for the tree of light to be completed and the great darkness that would engulf the country. Number of royal children, mages, and more were made milestones and become noted accomplishments with the passing of time, until the two lines become one. The moment when the eternal night came to be along with the tree of light. “We feared that all we would be able to do is endure this great spell until it fades, but now you’ve given us the chance to make it right. Those who have endured maintaining this spell for so long will return stronger. We will be able to train those who are no longer needed here. They will fight with their king against the great foe that we created.”

Unsaid was the simple statement that they made the parasite with the best of intentions, but sent themselves careening down into hell with their actions.

“You were fools. If you had a control, if you took greater care, or even simply acknowledged what was found and did not touch it… all would’ve been well.” Instead, they did what they wished, and undid the entirety of the realm. They took years of prosperity and forced their people into preparing for war instead. “Do you believe good intentions absolves your people of wrongdoing? That I would move to help you with all my heart because your intentions were to create a weapon, but simply lost control? No. It does not. Intent does not absolve wrongdoing. Not at all.”

They could’ve done nothing and more people would alive and happy now.

“It is true. All of it. Now, me and my son can only weather the outcome of my family’s decisions.” Elric bowed his head and reclined in his chair. Over the course of the last few days, he kept me company. Servants came by and provided him and myself with food and whatever else that we requested. “I am sure that in a century, after surviving this, we will be surrounded by other nations. We can only do what we can in order to not be destroyed by the vengeful remnants of our people.”

“Your lands are already secure. Your mountains are walls, and it is covered in armies. You’ve been preparing for this for far longer than you imply.” Elric paused before a small smile spread across his lips. It was a smile that completely lacked humor. “You do not deny it, then?”

“The walls were always there. The gates and armies always set. Aye, you’ve seen the truth of it. Our family’s greatest fear since we first brought low another nation. By treating them as foreign lands, placing trusted advisors over them, we have sealed our own fate. I was taught this only at my father’s deathbed. I never had a cunning mind.” Elric mused and shook his head. A sigh left him. “I only dreamt of being a warrior. I wished to leave ruling to my sister. Alas, she died by the hands of her own husband who believed that he would be placed as ruler.”

He shook his head and ran a hand through his beard.

“You have the right of many things, physician. The truth of our nation is plain to see. We sup upon the rest of the realm like a great tree, uncaring of others, and we jealously guard ourselves and our own.” He stood from his place across from me. He looked upon the Tree of Light that shed light all over the kingdom. Staring at it, supporting it so long, must have given him greater insight. “And, just like all trees that reach their end, we will rot and break under our own weight while continuing to drink where our roots reach.”

I wished for that course to take place.

The people that ruled over this land did so much harm to others. They conquered them and made them serfs in all but name. None from outside lands were permitted to truly rule. Only those that came from their homeland protected by the highest walls and finest warriors. To have it all crumble around them, for the people here to find their own nations, would be the finest result.

But the former king knelt and bowed his head.

Bowed so low that his forehead touched the floor, while I sat before him powering the tree of light that shed power upon the kingdom.

“I ask of you to take the youngest of my great-granddaughters with you. A babe no more than a few months old, along with her caretaker and nursemaid. Let her be free of this life.” He begged and pleaded without shame. A former king did this. I noticed that we were alone. That I could refuse his words, but also that he planned this very moment. “Teach her to be strong. Raise her well. She can be held hostage in your new realm. Then, when she comes of age, she can challenge whoever sits upon the throne and rule over this land as a true Empress.”

I see.

He thought that I wished to make someone else rule this land.

He was wrong.

“I refuse. I will not raise one of your family, so that she can become a killer of her kin, while becoming some sort of messiah. Nor will I force her to become a weapon and ruler.” The thought of what this man proposed disgusted me. I thought Elric had learned and grown wise. The truth was that he still tried to find a means for his family line to continue to rule. The only path he saw that did not end in their complete destruction, along with the continued rule of their line, was this farce. A child raised as a weapon and ruler to supplant all the others like an avenging hero. No doubt, he’d make it so that none of her potential foes would be capable of defeating her, and doing his utmost to support her from the shadows. It was so sickening that bile threatened to travel up my throat from my stomach. This man did not fall far from his lineage. “But I would be willing to care for a single child and become its guardian. I would be willing to train and teach her in my ways and methods… and tell her the truth about her family. That is all.”

Still, I could not ignore this disgusting man’s plea.

A single infant, the youngest of this family, who has done no wrong?

I could not refuse to try and save her.

“You will provide me with the materials to tutor her in. A nursemaid to keep her fed, and who will be returned when she can sup on regular food. After that period, she will be mine to raise.” Memories abounded in my mind. Many soldiers dying, but praying to live to see their children and families. Those were the fortunate ones who left progeny to carry their names and legacy onward. No matter how little. So many more young boys who died in the war didn’t have that. Only their friends, siblings, or their parents, would remember their passing. All of those boys would’ve been happy to know their child would carry their name and lineage forward, no matter what became of that child. That I was giving this despicable man such an opportunity should be enough when I couldn’t for so many innocent souls sent to die for such meagre gains. “This great-granddaughter of yours will retain the name of your household and receive the truth. Nothing more. She will decide who she wishes to be. Not you.”

I wished that I could give this gift to those drafted infantry slowly dying in my care as I couldn’t save them.

That I could promise them that someone will carry their blood onward, despite everything, and continue their family.

If this man refused my offer, if this child was only to be born to become a weapon and a new tyrant, then I will not accept his offer.

Elric raised his head at my words, and a grim smile settled on his face.

It was a smile of a dead man, but one who was sure of his decision with any doubt erased.

When he stood tall and breathed deep, as though a great weight fell from his shoulders, his words resounded in my head.

He had always simply wanted to be a warrior and to never wear the crown.

Would he not wish for a similar fate for one of his blood, if it were possible to give it to them?

They were contrary to his words and demands when he offered the infant, but those words could’ve easily been a test.

Or, perhaps, he wanted me to refuse to ensure that he could relay that was the only way to save this child?

Many questions ran in my mind after his words, but only one reached him as he moved to leave the chamber.

“Elric, could you not have run and refused to rule, if you wished to be a mere warrior?”

His answer was swift and simple.

“No. It was my father’s mistake and I’m the eldest. It’s only right that I moved to fix it.”
With those words, he departed and left me to my thoughts beneath the great Tree of Light.

Only two more days left of the bargain remained.

Point Zero: Of Gods Old And New: 6

Point Zero: Of Gods Old And New: 6

…

Commissioned by Ichypa

Wordcount: 2500

…

An itemized list of supernatural creatures and their weaknesses lay before me.

“This feels somewhat wrong. Honestly, at this point, the supernatural may as well be just more infected with different sets of powers.” Infected were studied carefully and their abilities categorized. It made dealing with them easier. After all, it would be foolish to have a group of soldiers armed with Gauss rifles after an infected creature that’s invulnerable to kinetic damage. You need to set it alight or use another form of damage, thus the soldiers need to be equipped properly for their task. “I mean, I understand. This is necessary. Absolutely and without a doubt. But it feels like we’re taking a lot of romance out of life.”

“Romanticizing conflict is foolish.” Gwen stated simply, rifling through her copy of the papers. She had a cup of very, very strong coffee in her hands. Multiple teaspoons of pure caffeine had gone into her cup after I prepared a batch of coffee. Given the amount of mass that she had, and how effective her body was at neutralizing ill effects, she needed a lot of caffeine to enjoy its benefits. Oh? Why’d I prepare coffee when I prefer tea? Given the cost of tea, I wouldn’t be able to hold back if I saw her pouring pure caffeine in a cup of tea that I prepared for her. It’d break my heart. “We also need to be able to capture them. Knowing their weaknesses allows for that.”

“I get it. We can incapacitate them more quickly by doing this.” Gwen nodded at my words, missing the hint of sarcasm that I added. Normally, I’d laugh at that. Someone missing sarcasm is top-notch humor in my opinion. However, Gwen’s just too… nice in her own way for me to let that place. I coughed and shook my head. “I mean to say that you may want to look at how you’re being viewed by the people for your incapacitations, Gwen. People are afraid of you. Not just criminals. I’m worried about how you’ll be treated.”

Now, I might be getting ahead of myself by asking about this. I might be overstepping my boundaries by worrying about Gwen’s social status, since I’m just her girlfriend—

“Oh. You’re worried about me. Thank you.” And, with barely three sentences from Gwen accompanied by a small smile, I’m ready to ask her to marry me and/or have her babies. Damn, it’s unfair how someone can look so cool one moment, then smile, and suddenly look cute and cool at the same time. Not only that, but her smile reminds me when she takes charge, too. Oh, no. With a bit more confidence, that’s exactly the smile she makes before I stop thinking for hours. “You believe that engaging these creatures in honest battle will make others feel less afraid of me?”

I cleared my throat, and did my best to not do anything lewd to try and entice Gwen.

We’re on business hours.

It’s not happening.

Which kinda makes me want to do it more, and see her reject me, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

The brain needs to take charge.

“I-I think it would help. But it’s honestly a maybe. Once people have an idea stuck in their heads, they tend to go with it.” Right now, she’s codenamed Minos, and she’s pretty much deemed the UN’s executioner in Verdict. If one of the other chiefs and their underlings show, there’s a fine chance that they’ll be considered police. If we show up, people run for cover, because she takes heads off and stuffs them in containers. The damage is limited, and we have perfect scores in apprehending people and even monsters. By all metrics given to us by the UN, we’re the best of Verdict in Point Zero. Too bad public relations aren’t part of those metrics. “Maybe, we should start bringing people in whole. Restrain them, but not take their heads off? I know it’s dangerous, but it’ll help.”

Gwen pondered for a moment, her brow furrowing in a very cute way.

A look that I was very familiar with.

It was the look she had when she decided to be clever/incredibly violent.

“I can sever their spine at their neck, along with the major blood vessels, and keep them whole.” Gwen held up her hand. The light of her office glinted off a thin disc of telekinetic force. So, the incapacitations will continue, but they’ll remain attached. “Perhaps, that will work?”

A part of me wanted to say that it wouldn’t, but I wasn’t about to tell Gwen no.

The vast majority of my ‘self’ had no desire to do so.

“Yeah, I think that we should try that. That sounds great.” I gave her a smile and a nod. “I’ll look for something else on my end. Maybe, we can get some cool photos of our new mech? People love giant robots.” Getting attention away from Gwen might be for the best. She can keep doing as she does, while I attract attention elsewhere. My goodness, that sounds downright scandalous. Just how much do I want to monopolize this woman? Too much, probably. “It’s just as important to have something drive away attention from you, as it is to improve.”

Gwen nodded attentively at my words, making it clear that she was listening, before speaking again.

“Unfortunately, our mech cannot be marketed or used for publicity. It’s in the contract regarding its usage. We may use it as a weapon of war and for our normal operations, but not for propaganda purposes.” Huh, well. That made perfect sense. Corporations value their products. They don’t want publicity that they don’t approve of from those they sell to. “However, your lab will soon be fully furnished and ready. You can start innovating and that should provide similar results.”

“Unf.”

Hold on, O’Hara. Gwen didn’t outright say she believes in your ability to make engineering wonders that can grasp the hearts of and minds of the populace.

She just implied it with a completely straight face and has absolute faith in you.

I looked at the clock.

Only thirty minutes until shift ends.

Ten minutes to get home.

I don’t think I’m going to hold on for that long.

…

“Say ‘Ah.’”

“Ah.”

“Do I want to know how Ms. O’Hara ended up in her current state?”

“It’s all Gwen’s fault.”

“O’Hara, behave yourself around our guest.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I answered Gwen after swallowing the very tasty bite of overnight oats and fruits produced by our incredibly high-end food fabricator. I was seated next to Gwen, wobbly, tender, and very satisfied, as she hand fed me breakfast. In another hour, I’ll be fully healed, but for now Gwen was pampering me and I was enjoying it. “Just… consider it night training. Gwen’s an amazing teacher.”

“O’Hara.”

“Shutting up, darling~.”

Gwen shook her head at my antics, before turning to Joan, who cleared her throat. The artificial goddess was a little red around the ears. I guess that even machine gods have a passing interest in such things. It would probably be more appropriate to call her a god of machines, rather than a machine god, since she was becoming more human slowly and steadily with the growth of her power.

“Thank you for coming, Joan. I had a few questions best unasked until I’m out of office. Primarily concerning yourself as a person. You are less than a year old, yet you have an immense of responsibility on yourself.” Gwen willed her communicator out of her pocket and activated it with her mind. In a few moments, she sent something Joan’s way. “Here are private therapists, physicians, and information brokers that can be of help to you. They all adhere to the strictest privacy standard: complete mindwipes of their meeting with you upon completion of your appointment.”

I nearly gave a whistle at that statement.

They were technically legal under UN jurisdiction, but mostly practiced by its enemies, and frowned upon. A lot of folks argued that erasing portions of your personal experience is effectively killing the present ‘self.’ Those for it say it’s the same as relegating an experience to complete passivity and just traveling through time, like sleeping. There’s a whole slew of arguments for and against the whole concept, but I understood why Gwen didn’t espouse them while working.

It would make Verdict and the UN look bad, so she erred against it.

However, as a private citizen on her off-time, she was free to offer the services of such individuals to Joan.

“That… all of this is incredibly helpful, especially with our increase in funds from the UN and the goods you’re willing to ferry and trade on our behalf.” Given that Joan approved of it, and was visibly relieved with relaxing shoulders at the new information, I supposed that wiping memories away wasn’t that much of an issue. Maybe, with all the new magic that we were dealing with, it would actually be a benefit? I read on the itemized list that there were some creatures that messed with memories. If you just removed the overriding memories implanted by the creature at a specific point in time, it could be key to helping someone overcome the issue. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Gwen.”

Gwen gave her a nod and a small smile.

Whatever feelings of jealousy I had were drowned out by the pleasurable ache all over my body and the fact that she was feeding me.

“For the time being, I believe it would be best to allow you and your people to work on supernatural cases on your own. Gain experience, grow strong, and get better equipment by recording your findings, providing evidence, and being properly rewarded by the UN.” Yep. The UN officially has a budding divine being on its payroll. Then again, I suppose that they have a lot of very powerful Infected on their retinue, and with Infection Suppressants in play, they can be deployed with greater ease. Those guys would definitely be counted as part of a pantheon in ancient times. Now, they’re ‘just’ living superweapons of mass destruction. “Call upon me and Verdict’s assistance only when necessary. And, by necessity, I mean that if you fear the loss of the life of one of your followers or yourself, call me immediately.”

“I see. Yes, that makes perfect sense. I need more strength, and my followers need to understand that blessings that I have given them, and the best way to do that is to train and challenge ourselves against what remains of the supernatural world.” Joan nodded and accepted Gwen’s words. She was primly seated across from us at our dining table. She went quiet for a moment, and her eyes flashed several times. I could only guess that it was an indicator that she was viewing something in her head. Must be nice to just be able to have a virtual computer in your head without seriously crazy implants. “I wish that I can do something for you, Gwen, but I honestly have nothing to offer. We’ve only started getting supplies and money.”

“There’s no need. We’re co-workers. These assets that I share with you are private as they are my recommendations. You’re free to ignore them and my statements. I just believe that it will all be helpful.” Gwen stated with a shake of her head. It was a long-winded way of saying it’s all free and that she needed no repayment. Sometimes, I worried that my girlfriend was too kind. Then, I remember that she tears through most criminals without blinking or being bothered. She’s this good only to people she sees as allies and friends. Normal people she treated with candor and respect, but support like she was giving now was reserved for a select few. “I do this not under my capacity as a chief of Verdict, but as myself.”

Joan nodded respectfully towards Gwen after her words.

“I understand, then… I will do my utmost to fulfill my duties and become the best that I can be. I will do all that I can to help humanity.” There’s a lot to unpack from those words, especially since Joan looked completely convinced of her own words. Under normal circumstances, I’d dissuade individuals from trying to change the world, no matter how powerful they are. However, I’m also not exactly in Joan or Gwen’s weight categories. They can change the world on their own. Well, maybe with my laboratory and a big enough budget, I can do some crazy things as well. Okay, perhaps I’m just used to being constrained and having to squabble and fight for every inch of gains that I get in this world.  “Ms. O’Hara, if I may ask, how much do you charge to create weaponry?”

To answer that question, I first turned to Gwen.

“Can I do that with the new lab?”

“Anything created in the lab must fall under UN regulations. No weapons of mass destruction. Additionally, whatever is made there belongs to the UN. They also require schematics and lists of material before providing funding and support.” It made sense. I was going to be using their money, their facility, and their logistical lines. There’s no way that the UN wants some toxin or weapon that breaks every rule in warfare traced back to their own labs.  “However, weapons purchased or acquired can be placed under O’Hara for refurbishment and upgrades as long as you provide materials and funds.”

Ah, that was a classic way to get communities to scrounge up and help finance outposts. UN sent skilled people out there to reclaim land and establish communities. They got people in them by making them hunt Infested in the area for their parts, but also by scavenging technology and assets from the surrounding areas. Humanity threw together a lot of things in the initial stages of the war and the UN picked areas that had plenty of assets that they wanted reclaimed. Weapons and tech that are brought in are analyzed, taken apart, and repaired to spec. Upgraded, if the one who brought it in could afford it.

“…I suppose that weapons acquired in Point Zero’s many boutique weapon shops count in that regard?”

“It’s encouraged. We get scans of bespoke weapons, and you can get them upgraded for cheap by bringing in some cash and materials.” This how a lot of technology was recovered and iterated upon after we re-established ourselves. When factories and data servers suddenly get swamped by infected rampaging through them, a lot can be lost. Backups could only do so much, especially when some things were kept secret by national policy. Just about everything was recovered now, but the same process can be used to reverse engineer the technology that humanity encounters. “Buy some good stuff out there, bring it in, we scan it, and then we’ll improve it for cheap!”

Some people say that the UN tries to do too much by throwing money at the problem.

I say… that it’s worked out so far.

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 82 and 83

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 82

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

…

After all that eating, you’d think that I’d gain a few pounds.

Unfortunately, with my powers, gaining weight was a difficult.

In fact, if I wasn’t careful, my body will eat up muscle mass before I notice. The last time I really pushed myself to my limits, I was basically emaciated and barely able to walk. Thankfully, my power shuts off before it starts eating my organs and brain, or compromises their function. A quick candy bar is good enough for few emergency jumps to safety, but I wasn’t about to test it.

Regaining muscle mass and body fat takes a lot of time and effort, and I basically can’t use my abilities for months without compromising it.

So, after doing that exactly once, I’ve never done it again.

Thankfully, I was still able to train my power’s efficiency by taking my weight, finding out how much I’d lose between a set number of jumps, and figure out how to increase the number I could make between intervals of mass reduction. If I went around naked, my baseline number of jumps was the highest, however with a few dozen pounds of equipment and armor there was only a negligible decrease in how many jumps I could make before losing the same amount of weight. Keeping up all my defenses, while standing on a scale, also confirmed that it was probably the most efficient use of my power with hours being required before I’d see an ounce of fat lost.

Transporting tons of material every day, though, made it necessary for me to eat a lot. When I first started out, protein shakes were my best bet. Mixes of powdered whey, bought in bulk, with some flavoring and with whole milk basically kept me going. I had whole pitchers filled up in a refrigerator, and I’d pour myself a glass whenever I found the time, and just chug it down. Even then, I barely managed to stop losing weight, since I was training my power while also running around transporting things all over the world for petty cash.

Nowadays, I had a couple bottles of calorie-dense slurries in my safehouses. Powdered whey, powdered peanut butter, honey, and powdered milk, mixed up with whole milk. All sourced from Maelstrom’s territories. Slurp one down… and two thousand calories are put into the engine. Even while binging on food all day, I still had one to start off the day, and one to end it. If my weight ever went past a good level, it’s just a matter of jumping effortlessly from one point to another a few hundred times.

If I didn’t have the extra mass to spend, it’s months of careful eating and growing back what I’ve lost, while also weight training so it’s not all fat that comes back.

It’s just flat-out safer to eat a lot and not lose body mass.

…

“So, you done with your comfort food tour after getting your world rocked?”

“Yeah, I binge eat to make myself feel better. I’m sorry for endangering the entire world for indulging. Wait. No. My binge eating doesn’t endanger the world.” I shot back at Seran without hesitation. Parvati was in Seran’s office, just sitting in one of the sofas, probably finishing calculations on what to bring to the negotiating table. “Unlike you and your artificial villainess waifu that you want to step on you. Also, here, I got you a bagel.”

“Oh, thanks!” Seran didn’t even blink, while I handed her a bagel. Parvati seemed a bit more surprised when I gave its current form one. The gynoids can eat, and it would’ve been awkward to give one to Seran without giving one to the AI. Besides, I wanted to support the local business. “Where’s it from?”

“Near the docks. Great place. They don’t skimp on the cream cheese or the lox. Both are homemade, too.” I sat across Parvati and opened my third bagel of the day. This one was plain and with just some butter. After the second bagel filled with smoked fish and cream cheese, I wanted something plain. Butter on a plain bagel sounds like a waste of time, until you’ve got a steaming, hot and toasted bagel with a full-fat butter in front of you. “So, what’s up? Any problems with getting an orbital defense system up?”

“No problems. Just challenges. Even with Parvati’s help, we need time. Can’t just fabricate a battle-station, after all.” Seran took a meaningful bit of her bagel and nodded in surprise. It’s good to see her eating. She used to be gaunt. Barely skin and bones held together by caffeine and protein bars. Yeah, as disconcerting it is to see my best friend in a new body, seeing her healthy is great. “We could replace losses with you providing lift capability, but it’s better if we get it right the first time, and just spam out a whole network and secure our orbits right away.”

“Makes sense, but that’ll make you a target for whatever assets they have on the planet.” Our plan was to set up a defense network, which would effectively be a blockade for things leaving the planet and things entering the planet. For our current enemies, the LARPing Neo-Nazis and the obscenely wealthy people up in space, that’ll practically be a signal to throw everything that they at us from space and on the surface of the planet. “We’re going to need to be ready to take down whatever they send to counter attack.”

“I’m negotiating with Maelstrom to assist with that. Though Canada will remain not a part of the United States, I hope that we’ll return to being allies.” Seran was talking about Canada, but last I recalled there were three different factions vying for control. My silence must’ve made my question on that obvious. “I don’t mind covering for the nobility, as long as Maelstrom helps against the patsies. “

“Being able to call on Maelstrom for help, while they can’t, pretty much says that you own the nation. That’s how they’ll see it.” Seran scowled at my statement, but it was the truth. There was no way that things were going to be that simple. On paper, it’s Maelstrom coming in to settle the issue of slavers pretending to be a nation. Geo-politically, it’s Seran having a strong backer/ally to call upon that the nobility at the center of Canada couldn’t. People are only going to see this one way. “I know you want to avoid deaths, but you’re going to need to ally with them instead of Maelstrom. Maybe, Maelstrom can come in at the end, but only after you’ve fought beside the nobility long enough for them to see you taking loads of losses, too. It’ll be a near thing, no matter what.”

“What if they can be forced to leave? Perhaps by threatening their homelands?” Parvati piped up and we both looked at the AI’s way. “I have taken the liberty of studying their supply lines. While they have optical camouflage for facilities extracting resources in Canada, it seems such is not the case for locations they’ve deemed safe.”

“If we threaten their homes with an invasion, we can have them pull away, especially if we don’t shatter their ships.” Seran strategized, and I nodded along. It was a sound plan. Secure the orbitals, threaten the neo-vikings’ lands, and give them a way out. If they were trapped on the continent, they can get up to some ludicrous things. Superhumans that are cornered can unleash some devastating stuff. Regular humans, juiced up on super-drugs, and in power armor in the thousands? Yeah. I’d rather they retreat. “What’ve you found, Parvati?”

“Only rough geographic locations for now. I suspect that they’re watching Earth’s orbits. It’ll be a day or so, before I have enough facilities farther away trained on their location. My apologies.” Parvati’s gynoid body gave a small bow of apology. For the AI, a whole day may as well be a year. For it, that was a devastatingly long time, but for us? That was plenty fast. Or, maybe, the AI was hiding something. Given Parvati’s actions since I met it, I was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt… not. This AI could just be playing the long game. Paranoid? I’d need to be an idiot to blindly trust an AI. “Egress?”

“Gave me coordinates, I’ll check them out real quick. Seran, do you have a spare camera?” I’d moved towards the gynoid avatar of the AI, after getting up from my seat across it. “We can get a quick scan to know what we’re dealing with, and find some places for your satellites to look at more closely.”

Seran rummages through her desk for a bit, before sighing, and making a call.

Meanwhile, Parvati nodded decisively.

“Yes, of course. Please, head to shipping hangar 1.” I nodded and went over across the world to Parvati’s location in the Himalayas. The shipping containers typically at the area were gone, and instead there was a gynoid coming my way with sheafs of paper at the ready. Despite looking completely different from the one in Vancouver, the AI spoke to me with the same tone and inflection as the one I just left. “Here are the islands I suspect are their bases. I suspect a settlement on Greenland is also active. I’m unsure where they are on Europe.” ‘

I looked over the maps. There were only vague outlines and tracked places of ships land and leaving the eastern coast of Canada. Projected shipping lanes leading to multiple islands caught my interest. There were direct paths straight to Europe, even.

“Why the variation?”

“I suspect that their ships may look simple, but that they have many upgrades within. I do not see any tenders or refill points on their bases on the continent. They may be fusion powered, or even fission powered.” Yeah, that’ll increase the range of a ship by a good deal, and give them more possible places to set up their base. “Until I know the make of the vessels, their range is unknown to me. They may even have production facilities hidden in the holds.”

Container ships turned into mobile fortresses with fabricators inside them?

That sounded like technology that militaries would have wanted before things went south.

“If that’s really the case, then we’re going to have a tougher time cutting their supply lines.” Fabricators built by superhumans are patently ridiculous. They get feedstock, then they churn out everything from radios to full suits of power armor. One that’s nestled in the heart of a ship, powered by a fusion reactor, and with forced-labor extracting materials for it… is basically an army printer. If they have one that’s for turning carbs, fats, and proteins into food, then supporting themselves is just a matter of raw materials. “Let’s investigate those first. Can you support me? Same thing we did with the underground labs.”

“I’ve made improvements to the equipment used then.” Parvati gestured, and a few moments later a chest full of equipment came forward. I had a feeling it predicted my thoughts on the matter, since we’ve worked long enough together. The olive-green, drab military-like case opened and three shelves of gear came out, suspended in black foam inserts. The top shelf had two familiar tubes. “Those are the reconnaissance drones. They’ve been refined and reshaped. Each disc can operate for an hour, provide visual feedback, and deploy a small shaped charge. Not to overcome armor, but more critical areas such as joints.”

Reminder: humans are all critical areas against a shaped charge.

Parvati now has quarter-sized fliers that can swarm and use shaped charges after sticking to targets.

Anyone beneath a certain level of toughness should be terrified.

For me, though?

“I’ll take five tubes. If things go south, we can unleash them in the halls. I don’t want to fight power armor in enclosed environments.” Power armor is bad enough in open space. Power armor chasing you down hallways and bursting through walls is far more terrifying. “You could’ve made a couple that deployed pepper-spray or something. Pour it right into their filters and get the pilot teary and coughing.”

“A fine suggestion, I’ll have a cannister ready for deployment in a few minutes.” Parvati was quick to innovate, as usual. Sometimes, I forget that the AI has such high-tech facilities. Then, I remember that this AI has the ability to make artificial gods. Of course, it can replace the payload for micro-drones to carry pepper-spray in a few minutes. “Now, please observe the new humanoid sensor system.”

The sensor system in question was a sleek, pliable screen that pulled out of a module that stuck to my helmet. The screen proceeded to activate and provide me with data and information, and link-up capability with the drones in the tubes.

Yeah, no.

“Not taking that. It’s too close to my head, and I’m not letting you augment my vision.” The benefits were obvious. I could manipulate the tech Parvati provided me, get more information, and be more effective in combat. All great things. However, the AI has shaped charges stuffed into drones barely bigger than a bottle cap. I’m not putting anything it made that’s half the size of my fist next to my head. Not only that, but even if it didn’t have a bomb, I’m not about let an AI decide what I see. “Talking and listening to you is compromise enough.”

If you’re comfortable with letting an AI augment your reality, I’m not associating with you.

“Perhaps, you can consider having Mayor Seran look at it? It would greatly improve your ability to utilize the technology that I provide.”

“Uh, she’s smart, but you’re smarter. I’m not doing that.” Hell, I wouldn’t trust a living person that as smart and who thinks as fast as an AI. If you’re alive and acting normal with just one human body with the ability to contend against Parvati, you’re probably a high-functioning psychopath. People have limits. Or, maybe, the way to word it is that there is a limit to being considered a person and not something more. “Let’s move on.”

I took the thing off and put it back on the box.

The next were just a few grenades.

“After examining the armor, I’ve determined that it’s not completely sealed, therefore its servos and motors are at risk. This, upon detonation, will make a rubber-like substance engulf an area and much up armor, make visors unretractable, and more.” Now, this I was willing to take on. Simple grenades without any excess electronics were just fine with me. “Pull the pin, fifteen second delay, and it explodes. Nothing more nor less.”

A few dozen of these things will be useful.

I moved onto the bottom of the box… and paused.

Then, I looked at Parvati.

“You’re making it very difficult to keep working with you, y’know?”

At the bottom of the box was what looked like a simple handheld electric torch.

However, the moment I looked at it, I knew that it was a beacon attuned to my power.

A beacon that’ll let me escape, even if I find myself having to escape from an enclosed energy field.

Meaning that Parvati functionally has half of my power figured out.

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 83

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

…

“This really feels like a breach of privacy.”

“After experiencing and witnessing your ability thousands of times, I’ve ascertained your energy signature prior to your appearance. It happens in milliseconds before you arrive.” Parvati explained the beacon without a hint of shame. I glared at the AI, but it paid my attention no heed. There’s just a glowing lantern in my hands that’s glowing brightly in my senses. I had no doubt at all that I could use this beacon to escape situations that would normally trap me, primarily those that interfere with me sending out my power to my destination. “You needn’t take it with you. Leave it here, in fact, and you can simply have an escape route to safety whenever you wish.”

“A safe route right into the clutches of an AI who’s cracked my power. Yeah. That’s sounds very safe.” How long before Parvati figures out how to hijack my power and lead my jumps straight into its clutches? How long before it finds the opposite of the energy and flat-out makes something I can’t escape from? Or, perhaps, even bombard my defenses with and nullify them completely? Yep, this wasn’t looking good. “Alright, how much do you want from me to not keep researching this technology? Do I need to work for you forever, or something? If you want me to be a slave, I’m telling you right now… I’m going to struggle.”

I’ll freely admit I considered just shutting up and letting Parvati become my boss. That would be the easiest way forward. However, if I was interested in living an easy life ruled by others, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d probably be dead in a ditch after the enemies of my boss took me out for being too much of a threat. No, whatever the situation, I had no intentions of giving up my freedom.

I’d rather use all my connections and go heavily into debt with various factions across the world, in order to put Parvati down, then do that.

“I do not intend to use this against you, but I cannot promise such a thing. This is the key for humanity to spread across the stars. Perhaps, it is the key to peace. It is a method of travel that can allow everyone, with sufficient power, to find all the space and resources that they need.” Parvati shook the head of the gynoid it currently inhabited. It was difficult to not be aware of how well-defended this place was. Major renovations took place after I first attacked it. I was sure that if I did anything rash, I’ll be locked down with energy bombarding my location, and I’d find myself contained one way or the other. “In the far future, I will find worlds for humanity, give them the laborers and bodies that they need, and they will never want or need to harm each other again.”

Personalized utopias for all creeds and races of humanity… sounded like something that Parvati really would go for.

It sounded absurd on paper, but if you can put anyone anywhere, why not somewhere they can’t hurt each other and just give them everything they want and need? Everything that involves labor and anything involving security will be done by Parvati. Humanity, no matter how they’re aligned, where they come from, the color of their skin, or more, will just be spread across the stars and administered to by Parvati.

Yeah.

Looks like I’ve been right to be paranoid… but this was better than I expected.

“How many years do you think that’ll take you?” I asked, and Parvati nodded.

“It will take centuries. Perhaps even a whole millennium. Your power is not as simple as atomic manipulation. It is not even spatial manipulation. It operates on the quantum level or something even smaller that I cannot yet detect completely.” Parvati answered honestly. I felt like if I was going to ask any more questions, that the AI was going to bring out a projector and a screen. This was starting to feel like a lecture that I’d know nothing about. “You need not fret. I do not plan on trapping you or enslaving you, Egress. I simply wish to continue to work with you, as I believe that with your help, I can help the world.”

“But helping you might end with humanity spread across the stars and basically under your control.” I could see it. Parvati placing worlds under its control, cultivating them, and then placing populations of humans on it. We’ll practically just be ants for it to keep alive and watch. If I were in its shoes, I’d make them forget that I existed, and establish themselves, but make sure their technology base can be accessed. “Do you really think humanity deserves that sort of future? Just ruled by you and your offshoots forever? Why don’t you start preparing to beat entropy or something, instead?”

“That is the end-goal, but short-term projects such as guiding humanity should keep me busy.”

“…”

“That was a joke, Designation: Egress.”

“Yeah? Didn’t sound like it.” I shook my head, and just thought over the situation a bit more. It didn’t feel real, honestly. That’s probably because most of my fears weren’t. Only the beacon was, but the potential it represented was immense. We’re going to have an AI master quantum mechanics and teleportation. How long before it starts slinging stars around and building dyson spheres? Wait. If Parvati can just extract mass from planets and asteroids with something close to my power, that’ll be easy. Hell, I bet it’ll be easy for it to fabricate anything if it can take things and place them on a molecular level. Did I just help Parvati become a capital G god? “Alrighty, can’t be helped, I guess. At least, I’ll be dead before things kick off and you rule over humans. Just be nice to me and obliterate any records of my existence, please.”

“You can bask in your paranoia later. For now, please keep this beacon somewhere safe or here, so that you can freely escape if you are somehow trapped.” Parvati insisted, and with that logic, I just nodded. “Also, you needn’t worry about others using this beacon. The signature used by Shogun’s teleporter is completely different. I suspect that you and your fellows have different signals. I hope to block other signals save for yours.”

“The more you talk about this, the more you worry me, honestly.” I admitted with a sigh, before just shaking my head. “Just keep the beacon here. I’ll keep it in view and I’ll be ready to jump at it to save my skin. I’ll… trust you not to kill me if I use it.”

Parvati’s gynoid body raised an eyebrow at my statement.

“We’ve been working together for nearly a year, Egress. Practically centuries in my perspective. Do you truly believe that I’d do such a thing?”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I’m paranoid, Parvati. Being unreasonably mistrustful is the definition. I’m pleasantly surprised every time that I jump in here and not get trapped.”

Parvati made a show of sighing, which I took as my victory.

Hey, if I end up being wrong about Parvati, and everything goes right… then I’ll be pleasantly surprised!

If I’m right, then I’ll be mentally prepared and ready to do what I need to do.

Honestly, it’s just the best course of action all around.

…

The port of Quebec was a big cruise destination, so it was unsurprising to find it capable of hosting large cargo ships.

Unfortunately, Parvati’s concerns about the cargo ships being more technologically advanced than they looked from orbit were well-founded.

A few kilometers away, on an abandoned skyscraper, it was obvious that the docked ships only looked like refurbished ships from orbit. Qin’s ship was a refurbished cargo vessel. The ones used by the interplanetary imperialist’s patsies were new, vaguely shaped like cargo vessels, and had a façade of rusty sheet metal.

Using binoculars, I could see a shiny, gray hull in some sections of the sides, and a bigger giveaway was that the containers on top of the ship were fake, and the whole deck opened up to release flying transports. Not the heavily armed gunships that serviced the outpost we destroyed, but twin-engined, new jet-VTOL craft that made nearly no noise.

Much like the ships, the rest of Quebec was a sham, too.

The buildings looked dilapidated and abandoned, and there was a massive crater from a nuclear strike on the city, but the buildings close to the ships were practically teeming with people. Rear echelon troops were streaming in and out of buildings, using trolleys to bring in loads of supplies, and when I looked through a window from afar I spotted construction within the buildings. They were reinforcing them from the inside, and probably from below as well, and basically using the shells as facades to trick faraway eyes.

However, the most important finding, was when a tank with some sort of massive laser emitter on it left one of the ships. The ruined road it lumbered up to after the ramp promptly opened and admitted the tank into some sort of underground complex.

“Looks like we’ve got more on our hands than we thought.” Parvati was thankfully back to just being a quadrotor drone. Seran reacted too well at Parvati’s willingness to look like supermodels and cosplay for the AI to hang around as just a machine in my presence. However, now that we were back to doing recon, it took the appropriate form. “Seran said there wasn’t much of a fight for the eastern part of the nation, because most of it was a wasteland, but I guess that just meant that these guys were able to get away with more than anyone thought.”

“The plan to insert special forces teams here and destroy them piecemeal needs to be revised. There is simply too much infrastructure present for that to succeed.” Parvati’s analysis would get scoffs from hot-blooded officers eager for glory, but I could see where the AI was coming from. Guerilla warfare supported by teleportation is a massive advantage. However, there comes a point where a thousand cuts aren’t going to cut it. The ships were churning out heavy vehicles, loads of people were streaming in and out of buildings, and we haven’t even seen any superhumans. “I postulate that whoever is in control of this force most likely has a means to punish them for not following orders or retreating. They have been too capable to not have such a thing.”

“Yeah, they probably have drugs that these people need to keep alive or something, just like the miners.” Off the top of my head, one way to keep supersoldiers in line was to keep them on a steady stream of drugs needed to maintain their physical forms. People get addicted to power and ability, and they’ll do a lot to keep it. Not only that, but withdrawals could also be lethal. Given the fact that we’re working with people in space who are using slave labor, taking all the women that they find, and extracting materials from the planet… I think it’s a good chance that withdrawals were going to be lethal. The suits and weapons they use could also just be rigged to blow up, if used against them. “I think that we’re going to need some more recon drones.”

“It would be better to infiltrate them with gynoid bodies.”

“Eh, chances are that they do medical screenings for women, or ship them straight to their masters.” Parvati frowned at my statement, and I could feel some enmity emitting from the blue sensor lights that it had on the front of its chassis. Did it train me to recognize those signals, or did it do it to pretend to be more human-like? What’s that? The AI Is beneficent and has only ever actively worked to protect humanity? If you think that way, you’re already lost to its grand deception. “Let’s go small and just screen the whole area. I’ll set up relays all around, too.”

“We’re abandoning our planned reconnaissance?” Parvati questioned. “There could be people there that need our help now.”

“If you find any women who need help, go ahead and mark where they are. We’ll get them out right away, then strike right after. We’re not leaving for days. I’m waiting right here to hit them hard and fast. We’ll blitz them.” Parvati seemed pleased with that. I’d bet that Advika and a lot of other gynoid war-forms were going to get marshalled for an attack on this. Parvati didn’t like what these people were doing one bit, and that dislike was going straight to hatred once it gathered more information. “With these findings, it should be easy enough to get everyone onboard with a swift attack. Just need to make sure that one ship can escape, so we can track it. Oh, and keep a lookout for any self-destruct devices that can glass the whole region.”

Parvati’s moment of silence may as well have been hours or days of shock for the AI.

“Do you truly believe that the people employing these thugs will go to such lengths?”

“We’re weaning hundreds of slaves already, they’re segregating people into toys and laborers, and they’re competent. People like the ones we're dealing with now?” I recounted just what these people did. Parvati probably wasn’t ruminating on the situation that much. Maybe, some sort of misguided belief that we were fighting other humans and that they can be spared or negotiated with. “They definitely have a failsafe to prevent their tech from falling into the wrong hands… and they’re fucked up enough to make that a nuke that’ll kill anyone trying to seize it.”

These people are out in space.

They’re only down here to extract people and resources to gain more power.

This is a resource gathering operation done by people who use drugs, technology, and racial supremacism to their advantage.

They’re totally the kind of people who’ll set off a nuke to deny attackers access to their technology.

 “I see. The reconnaissance systems will be done in an hour, Designation: Egress. What do we do until then?”

“What else? Call on everyone who wants this off the planet.”

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 53

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 53

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Sivantic.

…

I told the others of my findings amongst the rebels, and they shared my belief that it was best to not affiliate with them.

“If they were fighting for the sake of their people against the crown, I would be tempted to march there and offer my aid. But it seems that they want vengeance and retribution over their own people’s protection.” Erucic stated simply, while Djet’Is nodded. I had waited to tell him the brunt of the truth I found until she arrived days after my own return, though I shared a fair amount with him before. “I believe the correct course of action now is to safeguard our people, establish ourselves in a new region, and become prosperous despite our current circumstance.”

Over the course of a few days, I realized that idea was central to this whole ordeal. People were still angered over what happened. Some wished to act on their newfound power. However, the vast majority wanted to leave and find success elsewhere. The lands we planned to go to were dangerous, but it was suitable for people as strong as us, and we were all but guaranteed trading partners with the As’Kari’s interest in the materials produced by the monsters in those lands.

Very few wanted to stay in these lands.

We were all from the outskirts and borders of the kingdom. We had no nobility looking over us. Only officials appointed by the crown itself. Perhaps in the far future, where this tragedy never took place, we would’ve lived in cities and been ruled by nobility. Then, maybe, we would’ve wished to stay and fight for our homes and people. Instead, the oldest of our number could barely be considered elders, and they could still recall the first establishment of their towns.

Those places were not home.

Our homes were our families, our neighbors, and fellow townsfolk.

Those are the people we wanted vengeance for… but not so much as to risk the people who remained and who we could leave with.

Father… I know that you’d want me to leave this place.

Still, a part of me wishes that the crown would face some sort of punishment for letting you and so many others die.

“Let’s place that matter aside. I’ve taken a look at the supplies that they’re providing. There’s a severe lack in weapons.” Erucic nodded at my words. “They have provided us with repairs, equipment, and some stock for you and your knights, but we will have need of more to protect and hunt in our new lands.”

I read on the lands we were to go now.

Thundering Peaks was the name of the entire region and it was a land of peaceful valleys surrounded by treacherous peaks. Expeditions into the land have been sent before and the records have been provided. Rivers ran through the valleys, the soil was fertile, but the surrounding mountains were the roosts of Wyverns. Strong beasts with tough scales, two legs, wings, and long necks with the ability to call upon magic. Such strong beasts fight against one another for food, which took the form of a massive, shaggy goats that sought out caves for shelter in the mountains, and who descended to the valleys for food.

The immense goats were dangerous, their matted coats strong enough to resist steel, as they’ve changed over generations to resist the maws of their predators. Not only that, but they stampeded together to overcome their foes, and the strongest amongst them can call upon strikes of lighting from the ever-present thunderclouds in the region. The only saving grace of the creature was a few would be enough to feed our people with ease, and that they would make for fine materials for clothing, armor, and weapons.

The Wyverns were going to be the bigger problem. They congregate in flocks and communicate with one another. The records of expeditions showed that they acted like packs when hunting, separating the goats from one another, and lessening the strength of stampedes. Some would use magic, others would pick up their prey with the help of others, and fly them high to drop them to kill them. When trying to engage one Wyvern, it called for help with a roar, and was assisted by three others. Nearly two dozen men and a knight died to slay the creatures and bring their bodies back for study.

“Weapons are something that the As’Kari can provide as gifts. We gained many in our recent conflicts. If you do not wish to consider them gifts, allowing our warriors to hunt for a season in your new lands will suffice as payment.” Djet’Is proved her ability to negotiate once more. Father would say that she’s being too aggressive, but she knew what we needed. We needed to secure our borders and ensure the safety of our people. What better way than weapons and warriors eager to harvest the predators of our new lands? “The armors of these lands are more powerful than the common armor of our people, but I believe our weapons are stronger.”

I wracked my mind for some sort of counter when I recalled something the physician told me.

“Your weapons are also deadly to those who do not know how to use them… save for spears.” Djet’Is looked my way, and a faint smile played across her visage. A nod followed a moment later to acknowledge my words. Her honor demanded that she would not lie. However, she was not beholden to offer me all the information that she could to make the deal fair. A fair deal, when her people can benefit more, was not something that she actively sought out. “And, spears are not typically used in combat in the Great Dessert, correct?”

“That is true. Thankfully, we have enough more dangerous weapons to whittle and make spears from.” The typical weapons in the Great Desert were truly massive and composed of the bones of large monsters. They are meant to crush the strong armor hewn from the giant insects of the land, through living fibers that strengthened and empowered the wearer, and finally kill the warrior within. In these lands, they did not carry such weapons, as they were not needed. They carried spears and swords, but they were from the same materials. Materials that could be otherwise used for stronger weapons. Not only that, but they were weapons that were valued for use against monsters and by militia. There is no excess in the Great Desert. Everything had its place and purpose. “We offer to them to you as gifts to newfound allies.”

“I’m afraid such decisions should be left to mayor-to-be. Not me. I claim no rulership over these people, so I cannot accept an alliance.” An alliance with the As’Kari seemed promising, but they were in a war for control over the whole Great Desert. They were here seeking out more advantages and power. Their foes, upon learning of us and our alliance with them, will become our foes as well. We can scarcely afford to be the opponents of those who can fight against the As’Kari. “But you are free to propose it to whoever the people choose to lead them.”

“And, do you believe that it would be anyone but you?” Djet’Is questioned, and I frowned.

“I do not wish to be.”

“But you will, because you are beholden to these people. You see them as your own.” Djet’Is turned away, and her gaze went to a faraway place. I wondered if she was thinking of the physician, Will, and his actions. His leaving of the As’Kari. His choice of exile after they decided to wage war to conquer the Great Desert. I imagined myself in his place. If the people who I were with now decided to go forth and wage war, would I do the same as him? Abandon them, despite my power and ability to contribute, instead of following them on a path that I believe in? I couldn’t see myself leaving them, if they chose such a path. “They will choose you to lead them. There is no better choice. He will not accept leadership, and they will not take the knights, despite all that they’ve done.”

“It goes against our code to lead. Our purpose is to safeguard the realm and the people. That will not change outside these lands.” Erucic gave his opinion and I looked his way. His eyes were sharp as he looked at me with immense amounts of expectation. Expectation that I did not know if I would be able to meet. “You would fare the best in leading these people. They asked for you every day when you left, and when you returned their spirits brightened. The physician is someone that saved them, but you led them.”

I shook my head at his assertion and did my utmost to wipe away Djet’Is’ own words.

“Such matters are not set in stone. I will put forward my willingness to lead, and tell them my desires before they entrust me.” I will see us settled in the new lands, make the most of it, and build a memorial to those we lost. Protected and safe, I will work to ensure the people will not fear a repeat of what happened here. That is my goal. No wars against the crown. No supporting the rebellion. Only us and our future will be my focus. “Djet’Is, there is no need to give us weapons. I offer my services as a hunter to you and your people in exchange for weapons that our people can wield.”

Djet’Is chuckled at my words.

“You say that you do not lead them, and that you believe that you may not be chosen, but on their behalf you risk your life as a leader should.” The daughter of the As’Kari tribe’s chieftain smiled at me. “I will entertain your foolish beliefs that you will not lead these people. I accept your offer, mere hunter of the people of the Forest. Bring me two whole Wyverns and I shall supply your people with weapons.”

She reached out her hand, as if offering a concord as we did in our lands.

I glared at her, and she laughed before putting her hand away.

“The deal shall be writ and signed as is proper for your people.”

“Aye, so it shall be.”

I needed to be careful with the As’Kari.

They were not just strong, but cunning as well.

…

My teacher taught me a simple method to gauge my strength.

It was to take water, lift it with my power, and fill one of two vessels.

Then, transfer from one to the other until I grew tired.

The first time I attempted the feat, when I began training under him, I was barely able to life a cup of water out of the first bucket and move it to the next.

After my training, I could spend an hour transferring the water from one to the other without tiring, though the concentration it took was the same.  Now, after eating so many more monsters and training during our journey, I had two sets of buckets and transferring water for more than two hours without tiring.

“He would train with the whole reservoir of water he had at his home. A hundred buckets worth.” Djet’Is spoke, and I turned her way. She wore plain, white robes with a red trim. Winter was approaching. It will be a cold one bereft of any sunlight. “But he would also set it to boil, capture the vapors, and make the vapor cold to make rain. He said it also cleansed the water he kept.”

My mind raced at her statement. It made sense. He told me that causing any change to what I controlled would exact a cost. Making water boil, capturing steam, and then cooling steam were three more parts to this exercise that would allow me to test myself more quickly. The fact that my teacher could do it to a hundred times more water than I used did not matter.

I’ll never reach that point.

“Thank you, I’ll try that now.” I focused on the perfect sphere of water before me. I gathered the heat surrounding us. Within moments my breath left my lips as fog. The cooling weather and eternal night made gathering heat more difficult. If I had a fire close to me, then it would be easier. Still, I focused, and soon the water was boiling, turning into steam into another sphere above the next bucket. In that place, it was easy to extract heat with my earlier efforts, and the vapors cooled and water dripped into the bucket. The difficulty was much higher, and I felt a pull on my power. This one will be a better measure to use. “This will work.”

“Warriors of the As’Kari need to be able to do this for at least half a day before being judged worthy. Those who use curses and other such things a full day.” Djet’Is sat across from me. She was a monumental creature. Twice my height and with enough muscle to make most knights feel ashamed. Despite that, she was beautiful and well-proportioned. Noblewomen would seethe at the sight of her. “With only buckets of water, though. Only father can do the same as Will for now.”

Djet’Is looked at me through the different states of water between her and myself.

“I will reach my father’s level of strength in another year, but Will shall be forever ahead of me. It is a matter of birth and innate talent regarding how quickly one can grow strong, and what monsters they consume.” Djet’Is stated, and from the folds of her robes she produced a satchel. She opened it and placed it before me as I stayed seated. Inside was dried, white flesh of a monster that I did not know. “I have measured the time it has taken for you to learn and advance to your current stage. I believe that you can match him, unlike me and so many others, if you are provided powerful beasts to consume.”

I spoke before thinking.

“No. I refuse. That… that is not for me.” I’ve seen his power and strength, but most of all his control over himself. “If I have that strength, I will misuse it. The strength I have now, that I’m gaining, is tempting me enough… if I have more…”

I would make my dreams reality and cause untold suffering.

I moved to seal the satchel, but it was gone from my reach before I could take it.

Djet’Is said nothing and left with it.

As she left, a faint in the back of my mind faded.

Something that I felt many times before when hunting monsters with my father, before I gained so much strength.

Had I just escaped death?

V9: Chapter 8

V9: Chapter 8

…

Interlude: Celia

…

Consciousness returned to me and I opened my eyes to the familiar canopy of my bed.

The rest of my room, however, was in disarray.

“My lady, you’re finally awake.” Catherine’s voice drifted my way, while I sat up. The steady beeping of arcane machinery of the Ancients combined with the subtle hum of magical tools. My room was laden with magical power. All of which was dedicated to facilitating healing of the Undead. Healing me. “You were out for two days. It was an assassination attempt.”

“The time for duels of honor has passed, then.” I grunted and took off the blanket. Newly-grown, pale skin was over my right arm and most of my torso. Faint memories of flame and shrapnel came forward in my mind. Shrapnel that did more than just cut into me. “They must have used many old artifacts to make that bomb.”

“We extracted over eighty pieces of enchanted silver from your body. Were either Mallory and Christine not yet fully blooded, you’d be dead.” Catherine offered me a solid hand and let me onto my feet. I only wore baggy, airy sleeping trousers below the waist. It was improper to walk about in such a state under normal circumstances, but I had just survived a most grievous blow. My teacher, thus, said nothing. “We acted on the plans you prepared for the occasion.”

“Who tried to claim the ring?”

“House Donnovan colluded with House Pictor and House Vitra.” The most conservative and least amenable to change of our whole council.  They refused any compromise, and demanded a return to tradition. Some were swayed by words, others with concessions and promises, but they held true to their beliefs. Now, they were gone. “They are all now being drained of their ichor as we speak. The rest of the council approved.”

Extraction of ichor was to take from the body of Vampires the essence of their power and immortality. It was a rare, fatal punishment. But one that allowed for the destruction of a lineage to be the seed of a new household… or in this case thousands of soldiers. House Donnovan, Pictor, and Vitra were gone, and no new noble house was to replace them, instead I will make fledglings in the thousands, they will grow, they will be blooded, and they will mature, then I will have them make fledglings of their own. In a few years, I will be able to have a whole division of powerful warriors in my armies.

“Then, with my survival, we’ve made inroads towards finding some sort of victory.” I went to the balcony out of my room. I was in the Citadel, living overlooking the whole of the capital, and grimaced at the state I found it in. There were streets being unbarricaded. Districts were up in arms, and protests were ongoing. Counterprotests against them were barely being stopped from coming to blows. I tapped into my citizenry, to those who once never had a voice before under our rule, and they grew in strength and power within weeks. The assembly of people that I envisioned to counter the council divided and divergent, and their only common cause was the marginalization of those who ruled over them before. I knew already why they were protesting. “The Igniters wish the whole of the Nobility dead and the Spearheads wish to protect them.”

The Igniters had a single, overarching goal: to take my proposal of reformation to its utmost. It will be a land of equality without nobility, whether the nobility releases their powers willingly or not. Necromancers flocked to their cause, and they held power in the industrial districts and the towns where most materials were produced. Working with them, allowing them to employ Amalgams and larger beasts as undead laborers, made productivity soar. However, as they gained more power and influence, they asked me for more, and when I denied them, the only way to appease them was to take power away from the nobility.

The Spearheads, meanwhile, rose in opposition to them. They were born from those who aspired to become nobility themselves. Fledgling immortals who intended to rise to prominence and gain wealth and power for their bloodlines. They worked with merchants and invested their wealth and power, so that our lands would invite more trade from outside, and since they acted our coffers grew and grew. However, they opposed the elimination of the Council, or even the recalling of their rights. Their perceived, future rights as soon-to-be-nobility.

From the two coalitions came forth immense amounts of wealth and production capacity, but keeping them in line and content was a challenge.

“Yes.” Catherine bowed her head and joined me at the balcony, but not before placing a coat over my shoulders. It was not my old coat. It was a new one. The other one must have been no more than rags from the attack. “I’ve barely managed to convince the remaining noble Houses to not place themselves in seclusion.”

Seclusion meant at least a century away from mortal affairs. They would seal themselves away, using magic to carve catacombs into mountains, and sealing away the entrance by recreating rockfaces. Within the dark halls, they would settle, and they would take with them artifacts, knowledge, experience, and power.

“In the face of Armageddons and change, they choose to run. After people they called their own tried to kill me.”

“My lady…” Catherine trailed off, and shook her head. “I am afraid to admit it, but I believe allowing them to seclude themselves will be the right choice. Their continuing presence is only driving all to a fever pitch.”

“The Spearheads will have something to say.”

Catherine shook her head.

“If the current nobility leaves, they leave behind a vacuum for officers, officials, and many positions. The Spearheads will be placated. The Igniters will celebrate their perceived foes leaving as a victory, but we can give them more control over the factories as a prize of their own.” My teacher sighed and looked upon the city that I saw now. With this decision, by having the nobility abdicate, we will remove from the equation a terrible power that is fueling much of the protests. We lose much, but our gains will be significant. “They will be easier to control without such a singular thing polarizing so many to near-blows.”

I considered it for a moment, closing my eyes, and for a moment there was no city at the foot of the Citadel.

Only the armies of the Houses, united, under a single banner was triumphant against the hordes of monsters that came forth to protect their homeland.

An army that I have not seen since that day.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the city built around the Citadel since then, filled with so many people that were not a part of that battle, but were not citizens under my rule.

“Make it so. Give them the word that they may seclude themselves, and may we meet again in the future under better circumstances.” I could not tolerate it. Not any longer. No after the attempt on my life after the changes I made catapulted us so swiftly past our previous heights. We can forge armies within weeks and have them armed. Our coffers were full and we were hiring specialists from all walks of life to our city. Our university was full of scholars, our ministries were recording and issuing my decrees swiftly, and our courts were fully functioning. “Have the Council Hall refurbished. Look upon records of the past for the institution once used by the Ancients to allow all to have their voices represented.”

“Yes, my lady.” Catherine bowed and left me to my thoughts.

Some doubt crawled into my heart as she left me with only my healing wounds and the cool winter air.

Was this truly the right path?

…

Interlude: Riegert

…

I will never be used to how prophetic Jack’s words could be.

After killing the assassin of the Academy, he bid me to trace his steps and fend where he had come from. It seemed like a simple mission, so I questioned why I was being given a whole expeditionary force for the task, as well as instructed to call for help if the need arose. Jack decided to be enigmatic at that moment, simply stating that caution is needed when it came to dealing with a faction that had access to demonic blades that could corrupt Champions instantly, and I dropped my line of questioning.

Now, after bringing a part of the body to many mages, extracting its essence, and tracing its path of destruction with spells dedicated to finding traces of it… I found myself looking upon a large crater in the middle of nowhere.

A crater filled with horrific monsters.

I took down my long lenses from my eyes and shook my head.

“Another aerial strike. A few more strikes from the mages as well.” Oswald addressed me, putting down his own sights. He went from stronger rejuvenation after the last campaign. Gone was the scarred and weathered man with a bare head. His wisdom was plain to see in his eyes, but he had short hair close to his scalp, and he wore Citadel alloys as armor. If I met this Oswald decades ago, when I first met him, I would’ve thought him a lordling from some wealthy Academy household. “They do not seem to be very effective, general, but they are working.”

“Any word from the fliers regarding our neighbors noticing our presence?” We were in unclaimed Academy territory, primarily thanks to it being close to the Death Lord’s territories. Our closest neighbors were the Guardians, but a day’s ride away were the Merchants. Two days and the Forgers could be here. The Wardens kept a close eye on the region, too. “We may have to ride out, if we’ve been noticed.”

“Latest report was just a few minutes ago. We’re clear.” I ran the numbers in my head. Mages needed time to rest between strong bombardments. Our aerial cavalry needed to be re-armed before they can fly out, as well. Half-an-hour, then fifteen minutes of violence, and then another half-an-hour. From the results of the first barrage, we’d need three more cycles of attacks. Four hours. Then, searching the wreckage thoroughly while lacing it with explosives to deny it, would take half a day. If we haven’t been found yet, and if we’re found in the next four hours, we still had time.

“Three more bombardments. Kill as many as we can with that, but then we need to be cautious of our neighbors and take the site. We need to be out here in a day, so make sure the men are ready to work through the night to search the location and deny it to the enemy with explosives.” Oswald gave a nod, and began directing the officers standing ready behind us. In moments, my commands were coursing through the command center. I received a written copy of it, and I validated it, and it reached the rest of the officers. If they made any mistakes in their commands, they rectified them, before heading over to their men. In less a half-an-hour, my commands will be known to the whole of the expedition, and five thousand soldiers will do as I bid. “Oswald, has the response—

“Already here, general.” Oswald produced a slim letter from inside his cuirass. Black in coloration, it was obvious that it was high-priority communications. The seal upon it was our nation’s crest, and it was alive with magic. Any attempt to open it without the right magic would set the letter aflame. And, even then, the letter itself was written in a cypher. A cypher that needed a magical lens to look upon. With espionage being the primary focus in the coming years, we invested heavily in securing our most vital communication lines. All the riders of the high-priority lines were Iterants, and their loyalty was almost beyond belief. “Arrived just minutes ago. Rider has already swapped and is ready for another run. They’re a different breed.”

They’re not mortal at all, in fact, but Oswald didn’t know that yet.

I opened the letter, undid the seal with my magic, and pulled out the monocle needed to read it. There was a blizzard of words, phrases, and non-intelligible scribblings over the paper. The lens got rid of all the unnecessary portions and revealed the true message, like it was simply, plainly written on the paper.

It was almost laughable how simple the message was, if not for the sobering thought of how the message would be used by our enemies if they received it.

Leaving the Goddess’s protections to Iterants. King of Wisdom in the north solving mind-replaced bodies by Scholars. Rita and Myself leaving Capital to assist with requested transport capacity.

We had a Nature Goddess.

We discovered people with minds replaced in our most northern lands.

And, finally, we had no Champions in our capital.

We had the ability to move thousands of troops and assets across the continent in a day.

Simple, important information that I would never wish for our enemies to know.

I burned the letter in my hands, after reading it, with just a whispered phrase. If I did not, it would’ve burned up within three days by itself.

Nothing writ in the letters was kept recorded.

Reinforcements were on their way, meaning that Ilych and Rita were going to be here, and we’ll be able to leave swiftly as I told them to bring enough transports for everyone and everything.

Giving me a bit of room to work with.

“Oswald?”

“Sir?”

 “I’m placing you in command, while I put these creatures to the test.” Oswald opened his mouth to disagree, but again looked at the crater. The ruins of a strange, massive vessel were at the center and filled with Ancient technologies. Surrounding it were strange machines armed eerily like the Demons described by Khanrow. Our normal weapons were barely effective. I had a feeling Conquerors with Citadel weaponry would be very effective, and our new cannons would be very powerful against them, too.  However, since I read the reports, I had wondered: was a Champion enough to slay one of the Demons in their infernal machines? “If you think I’m going to lose, I give you permission to deploy our specialists to save me.”

“Aye, general. Good hunting.” Oswald gave a nod and bow. The man I knew was still there, beneath all the newfound youth and health. A grin formed on his face, and I mirrored it without thinking. “Don’t hog all the glory. Remember some for the rest of us.”

“I’ll try.”

Now, then.

Time to see if a strong enough axe arm and a keen mind can do something about the terrors to come.

V9: Chapter 7

V9: Chapter 7

…

Here’s the thing with AI-led coalitions against you.

They don’t last.

Sure, if you disable their faction victories and enable alliance victories, there’s a slim chance that they do it. However, nine times out of ten, their alliance falls apart, and they go ahead and start killing each other.

Reports from the Iterants in their lands are already reporting that’s the case.

With Celia taking the Guardians off the table, since she was working on unfucking their government and switching over to Undead mass-production, the Forgers were eyeing up the Merchants and their lands.  The Merchants were trying to build up defenses and a standing army, but their Civil War killed their few military units off, and most mercenary companies were still recovering from fighting against the Death Lord. Meanwhile, the Wardens knew I was coming for them, so they were on their borders ready for an invasion and they were trying to stall for time while keeping their coalition together.

In short, their coalition was going to blow up in twelve more turns.

Usually, coalitions last between fifteen turns or sixteen turns. The game reasoning was that the devs don’t want to knock the fun out of capturing lots of Citadels fast. They want you to slow down, not just spam attack moves and churn out units. Basically, the whole coalition thing was a measure to make the players play the rest of the game by managing the tech tree and cities and resources. If every game is just about rushing and aggression, and if it’s so effective you’re basically just LARPing if you don’t go for early game cheese and rush, then you may as well boot up an RTS game instead of playing a 4X game.

Coalitions are basically big stop-signs that tell you that you’ve won as far as you currently can and that you should do something else for a bit, so that you can enjoy the rest of the game.

As for my current reality, the coalitions don’t fail by fiat.

They fail because of their mentality.

They don’t see one another as permanent allies, just ones of convenience. Eventually, they all planned to fuck each other over, because they didn’t trust each other not to fuck each other over. Thus, they all planned and plotted to fuck each other over, while their spies looked at one another, and validated their thoughts.

In short, it’s just like the game.

They’re prioritizing their special victory conditions above all else, and the current coalition was just a ‘reasonable’ move for the time being.

Meaning that it was the perfect time to have them kill each other.

…

Morgan and Khanrow were understandably interested in my plans to subvert the other factions, and I was happy to explain.

“So, currently, we have the operations against the Wardens going on. Justiciar Replacement.” The name was on the simple side, but it wasn’t. It involved empowering radical factions of the Guardians, bringing Khalai’s reputation down, and stirring up political unrest throughout their nation. “You’re both already aware of this. We’ll be making our moves in two years, contact’s been made, and we’re observing the situation closely to determine what we can do to undermine Khalai’s support… or just kill him outright and let the power vacuum do the work.”

“The last check I made, I found that we had assets inserted into their populace prior to the Conquerors joining us. We have made significant progress already, correct?” Morgan requested a full briefing on the subject. Thankfully, she didn’t suspect that I didn’t brief her on purpose. Around the time she arrived, I wasn’t sure whether to use her or have her killed quietly. When the request came, probably because Khanrow decided she know, I just told her she hadn’t had clearance when we started the project. “Since then, Iterants have replaced them and have risen in their ranks.”

“Correct, just as what the Scholars are hoping to do here. Just ahead of the curve with better, less detectable assets.” After the Scholars wasted enough money, I’ll release this information on how to find them. Everyone will spend time making metal detectors and scanning people. Iterants don’t show up on them. Whatever hyper-tough ally they were made of, it wasn’t metal. Probably some sort of ceramic, like the Citadels. How ceramic material shapeshifted, I didn’t know. Magic, probably. “They will either foment rebellions, inciting criminal elements and the like, or they will conduct an assassination strike with all their numbers. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

We had a thousand Iterants in the Warden’s capital now, spread across various districts, and biding their time. More were streaming in slowly but surely. A long time ago, we worked with the Smiling Tyrant to get entertainers spread across the whole continent. An espionage increases in all countries that were affected by our culture, basically.

 I cribbed a lot of copyrighted materials and made them make sense in the setting, so that theatre troupes could flood the continent. The constant number of shows and plays they hosted made them big troupes, and people were none the wiser as more and more of the troupes became Iterants. The money they brought in went back to their funding, which enabled more shows and more troupes, so I had a lot of shapeshifting killer robots acting out seasons of shows that I watched back home.

The fake actors will feign falling out with their troupe, and look for jobs in towns and cities, and generally immigrate with little suspicion.

When the time came, they’ll activate, and wreak havoc, until they get put down by Citadel Guardians.

At the very least, if my plans fail, I can effectively cripple all my opponents and blitz through them while they’re recovering from the sudden surge of hyper-lethal robots in their midst.

But that would waste Iterants that I would otherwise like to become the bureaucracy of my conquered territories.

“Why now have them attack now? We can do truly massive amounts of damage with them already. The longer we wait, the greater the chances of them discovering Iterants exist.” Morgan pointed out. It was scary how close she was to my game knowledge with just intellect and cunning alone. Sure, her plans looked shortsighted from my perspective, but I pretty much had hindsight on my side. If she knew what I knew, she’d have this whole continent under her control already. “We can have the Wardens under our thumb within the year.”

“If we unveil the Iterants, I want it to be wholesale. A complete, continent-wide assault across the entire enemy coalition, followed by full-scale military operations to swiftly take all Citadels.” Morgan blinked owlishly at my words, while Khanrow nodded. Khanrow was the more experienced warlord and espionage specialist. He preferred long-term plans and patience when possible. His nodding was basically implicit approval of my plan. Why wouldn’t he approve of it? We practically thought it up together. “That will be possible within a year. I have confidence in their ability to remain unnoticed for that long. However, I would rather have them be unnoticed and continue to act in our stead. They’ll be very useful as bureaucrats or people to rule in our stead when the conquest is complete.”

Morgan sat straight up at that statement, my words probably connecting the Demon Lord’s neurons together and making them spark.

Of course, having killer shapeshifting robots rule over the conquered states will make her understand.

She’s literally developing mind-control magic, of course she’d like that idea.

“I see. I retract my suggestion. They would be far better unveiled, as you say, your majesty.” Morgan had a big smile on her face and seemed content. I could only assume that I placated the Demon Lord, as she stared at me with interest rather than any malice. Chalking that shit up as a win, chat. “So, the Wardens will fall within two years?”

“If all goes well, yes.” I gave a decisive nod, before leaning back onto my chair, and giving a small sigh. As good as my plans were, Morgan’s initial suggestion was good as well. I threw her a bone, just in case she was feigning being pleased by my answer. Please, don’t kill me. “Of course, we’ll go with the assault if the operation falls apart. We are working on a strict time limit, after all.”

 “Of course.” Morgan bowed her head in gratitude, while Khanrow gave his own nod once more.

Good. The two real rulers have assented.

Time to present the rest of the projects.

They were already aware of us working to have everyone else waste their money having Scholars do espionage against us, so I moved ahead.

“For the Guardians, we’re stalling placing more people in their ranks. They’re going to have a civil war soon, with how Celia is upturning their whole society. When it ends, we’ll return to a population desperately looking for succor.” They were updated on the goings on with the Guardians, so my update on that received nods quickly. It was just sound, logical planning, so no one had much to say. “For the Merchants, reports are coming in, and I’m honestly hoping to leverage a buyout. Unveil our hand, tell them we’ll destroy them, and offer them lucrative trade rights as a client state. After they abolish slavery, naturally. And, of course, if the Forgers don’t attack them first.”

The Merchants were poorly positioned after their ordeal with the Death Lord event. They lost a lot of money, the mercenary forces across the continent were depleted, and their leader had to fight tooth and nail to retain her position.

Who knew using threaten, intimidate, and demand would cause such ripple effects?

I hadn’t, but I had hoped.

Anyway, the Forgers were the problem.

“As you know, though, the Forgers are reclusive. They refuse entry to anyone besides their own to their main Citadel and hidden, underground city. Towns and cities above ground are resource extraction points for them… and the best we can do is cripple raw material production by activating our Iterants there… but I do have a potential solution.” In-game, plagues and epidemic events happened in Dwarven society often. They needed to have specific research topics done to keep those events from happening, as well as resources to spare. If they didn’t have that research, or the resources, then they’ll lose swathes of their population due to lack of genetic diversity in their society. In-game, you can overcome that in a few turns with population growth and food bonuses. Not here. “Against them, we’ll develop a weapon similar to what we used against the Beast Tribes that allied with the Death Lord, but far, far more potent in order to force them above ground. I only had the Alchemists begin, but results are promising so far.”

I gave the latest dossier on the bioweapon project “Red Pox” over to Morgan and Khanrow.

Low lethality, high communicability, but most importantly: high visibility.

I’ll terrorize the Forgers by giving them very itchy, red skin that’ll leave scars and send them into a panic into finding above ground settlement.

There, they’ll find that other mortals don’t get the plague and can treat it.

While they’re up there, we’ll infiltrate them, and follow them back inside as new servants.

Judging by the shared looks between Morgan and Khanrow, and their nods after reading through the plan, they approved.

Still, though, it’s important for dialogue to exist and for vocal agreements.

“Red Pox is a simple rash, but geared specifically to avoid damaging eyes, nose, and lungs. Efforts are being undertaken to make it airborne, to react to skin specifically.” There were a lot of caveats to this bioweapon. It was designed to be a highly visible irritant. Not even close to poison ivy in terms of pain. It was closer to chicken pox, and gimped so that it didn’t hit the stage of small pox. “Tests on rats have so far showcased far too lethal consequences, as well as transmission to mortals outside of the Forgers.”

“How can make it resistant to magic? Most poxes are easily overcome by magic and supplemental vitamins. We know this from our own studies.” Khanrow spoke this time, while Morgan absorbed the information. I was sure her next question would be why we were making it less lethal. The answer to that, of course, was that we needed Forgers. They were too skilled as craftsmen and technicians to let die off. We needed Scholars, too, but they bred like rabbits and their population was skyrocketing already. They’re going to be our best pilots. Small bodies, fantastic reflexes, and late WW2 wooden-framed jet aircraft in seven years. Fingers crossed. Just going to go ahead and skip pistons. “…It’s not a pox, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s a small, living organism adapted to the task. The smallest soldier that we can produce. Mushroom spores that spread swiftly in the underground, which are resistant to magic.” Living creatures can be made resistant to magic. That’s how familiars work, and how monsters work, too. Athlete’s foot came to mind. Fungal infections are alive and require specific treatments. For a moment, I honestly considered a fungal parasite, but I didn’t like the words magic and parasite in the same sentence. Gave me a serious gut feeling to not fuck around with, unless at the end of my ropes. “They’ll spread and grow in the dark recesses of their underground cities, spread, and make the Forgers fear for their lives… and going above ground without armor will kill it off swiftly.”

We were still working out the kinks, making what we had unlikely to clog up the lungs and fill them with mushrooms, but it looked good so far.

I pre-empted Morgan’s question before she came up with it, though.

“Naturally, the lethal version will be developed and produced in large quantities. After we conquer the Forgers, we’ll use the bioweapon against the rest of the planet, after protecting our own populations.”

Given our territory and population disparity compared to the rest of our enemies, chemical and biological weapons were really our best advantages.

Nuclear?

Yeah, just in case, I’m not going to scream out to the rest of the galaxy that we’re here and alive, thanks.  

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 15

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 15

…

Wordcount: 2500

…

And, instead of being sent off to war, it’s back to school.

It wasn’t back to normal, though.

Pretty much everyone figured out who the pilot was in the broadcast, and I had the usual clique waiting for me at my desk.

“Good morning, is there something that I can assist you with, Lady Remington?” Ryleigh Remington looked as prim and proper as always in the modest uniforms worn in the school. Skirt just past the knee, white leggings, and a blouse with a jacket. Gunmetal gray, but the quality of everything was high-end. If you took one piece of the uniform, and sold it off back in my old life, I’d bet the jacket alone would be like five hundred dollars or something stupid like that. Everything just screamed high-quality and designer. All the while people are starving and are in debt for being born. Fun. “If you wish to inquire for training opportunities, I must refer you to Lady Hariss for operational opportunities.”

I gestured towards Cina-140, who bowed towards Lady Remington, and prepared to open a line.

“That will be unnecessary. I am here to negotiate with you to gain you as a contact for House Remington. This is a gift.” Straight and to the point, just what I’d expect from the only student in the academy to challenge me to a straight up duel. Another point in her favor was that she didn’t complain after her loss. I wouldn’t be able to handle the loss like she did, if I lost in a simulation with the same machine that she’d been running while I faced off against mine. I’m petty, though. “House Remington’s latest Mech submachine gun.”

Ooh, this girl’s learned how to speak my language.

New toys are always welcome.

“Tell me more.”

“It is a heavy submachine gun designed for prolonged assaults with modest armor piercing capability and a high-capacity, dual drum magazine.” Ryleigh took a seat on an arm of my desk chair and accessed my desk’s interface. Thanks to being almost half-a-decade away from puberty, having her skirt-clad rear so close to my face basically elicited no response. Multiple years of combat and having a paste for food have probably led to a severe delay in any sort of lust-like response. I was more interested in the massive gun I was being offered. It was a solid block with a snub barrel at the end with double-barrel at the end… with a pistol grip. It looked absurd and I wanted it. “We are also developing additional forms of ammunition.”

“An all-rounder weapon, then.” I could see the appeal. Specialization for enemies is great, but there’s always something to be said about an average gun with decent damage and an okay fire rate that didn’t weigh much. However, I spotted something even more exceptional to the weapon in question. “Oh? It’s a real sidearm.”

It had its own latching mechanism onto armor, meaning that the weapon in question could be a real secondary weapon. The only way to get extra weapons to wield in a mech’s arms is to get rid of shoulder-mounted weapons and put apertures on there that’ll switch out what you’re carrying and give you what you’ve got on your back. Some people like it, and I can see the versatility, but I always think it’s better to just have shoulder-mounted weapons systems.

It means you can shoot four kinds of guns at the same time, instead of having to juggle switching them around and doing weird shit.

“One that can be remotely operated. Observe.” I gave a whistle as the weapon was attached to the ‘side calf’ of a mech. It proceeded to fire at the direction of where the leg was pointing. Streaks of shells in the light artillery range flowed out of the gun and broke through a block of concrete about the size of an apartment building. “As you can see, it’s a very potent weapon that you can have multitudes of on your assault walker. They are also robust enough to be discarded and recovered after their ammunition is expended.”

Don’t bring more ammo.

Bring more gun.

Possibly with different ammunition types for different opponents.

Very neat… but there was an issue.

“Wireless transmission? Any way to remove that? The risks outweigh the benefits.” The squids were ahead of us in terms of tech, and the robots were literally led by AI with supercomputers the size of skyscrapers for processors. With how fast the bugs were evolving, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started churning out some sort of bug that can mess with signals sooner rather than later. There are already bugs that use their brains to blast people with psychic powers. It’s just a matter of time. “I’d rather just have one as a sidearm. Unless you can make the remote-operation analog.”

Some people would say that having cabling strapping a weapon to your mech looks ugly.

I think having a mech covered in scrap armor, jury-rigged weapons, and ragged cape looks dope as hell. Bonus points if there’s a giant scrap-metal buster sword on its back and half the mech’s face is just sensors. Man, I’d do that, if not for the fact that Frankenstein-mechs are unbalanced, unwieldy, and get people killed. I’m a good pilot. I’d even say I’m great. But I don’t have the lives to spare to go face all my enemies in a shitty mech, no matter how cool it looks.

But back to House Remington’s offer.

“That can be arranged. Weapon interface ports will be needed to be added and there are a limited number of locations where they can be placed on a mech, but it is possible.” Ryleigh nodded. Her eyes locked onto me. “I take it that this is enough to consider you a contact? I understand that your worth as a combat and training asset is to be determined by House Harris.”

“I think that this is worth a couple of calls and some advice. Cina-140, can you give Lady Ryleigh my contact information, please?” Cina-140 bowed and obliged. She didn’t give it to the noblewoman directly. She gave it to one of the members of her retinue, who confirmed the transfer to Lady Ryleigh. Seriously, these people have personal assistants to manage sharing contact details? “If you have something to ask before class, I’ll be happy to answer, if I can.”

I gave Ryleigh a smile.

A smile that made it clear that I won’t be answering if she asked for something outrageous.

To her credit, she didn’t hesitate.

Probably thanks to being educated and trained better since birth than most of the starving, indebted populace.

So, really, there’s no credit to be given.

“What do you feel is the most important factor in becoming a pilot such as yourself?” Ryleigh worded the question like a champ. If she asked me just for the most important factor of being a pilot, I could’ve called that a secret that I couldn’t share. Instead, the statuesque, genetically-engineered blonde asked me for my opinion. Something that I can share and thought despite limitations. “I believe that your mindset is key to improving my own skills in piloting.”

Well, since she’s being so honest, I’ll oblige.

…

Interlude: Ryleigh of House Remington, Aspirant Savior of Earth

…

“Kill. Don’t stop killing. Kill until you look at a battlefield and know only how much it costs to kill everything there in a glance.” The twelve-year-old Operating System met my gaze as he gave an earnest answer to my question. There was nothing but mirth and amusement in his eyes. The satisfaction of sharing an answer that he truly believed in. “I believe that you have access to my records?”

“I do.” Thirty thousand confirmed kills of higher caste Elarans. An average of five lesser strains killed for each higher caste kill. Five thousand confirmed Warrior Seidan kills. Average two Psionic Drones destroyed for each kill. Eight hundred total aberrant intelligences destroyed beyond recovery in medium or heavy chassis. Three lesser warforms estimated killed for each. In his twelve years, ever since he was placed in his piloting chair, he has been killing hundreds of enemies daily without stopping for years. “I’m afraid that I do not have the luxury of time.”

Others were listening in on our conversation. If he noticed, he said nothing and made no signal. There was no one else speaking in the class. There were only people listening to his words. Everyone here knew that this Operating System, this Knight, exceeded us.

All of here are the fruits of labor of whole noble houses. Our genetic lineages have been carefully crafted. Half the Empress herself, and the other half a conglomeration of the finest traits that our houses valued from the greatest of our lines. Through us, our family’s made bids towards reconquering the planet, towards a future where we were beholden to no one besides ourselves, and where we could rule over more than just mere districts in Arcologies.

Each of us are meant to match the Empress, so that we can rise beyond her influence, and forge our own destinies.

Yet this child barely about to reach thirteen is beyond us.

“Fight harder battles. Look for operations where you know there’ll be more opponents. You can learn faster.” His distaste for everyone in the Academy was apparent. He stared at our luxuries and talent and influence and was barely able to hide his distaste. We had everything that he never had. For mere survival, he risked his life every passing moment since he was sold as an OS. There was no lost love for us in his heart. In fact, it was fortunate that he felt no hate or will to tear us down. “Swap in and out of mechs between missions. One can be repaired, while you fight with a new one. How about you team up with some people? Just keep watch over one another.”

His words made many look to those around them.

How many of us could entrust one another with our backs and our flanks in battle? Nearly all of us here competed with one another. We saw each other as rivals. We squabbled and fought amongst one another, trying to outdo one another, as we all knew the threat each of us posed. There were only so many viable places on the planet to place an Arcology. Fewer still were set to be prosperous, and not just bulwarks against the enemy.

The best of us will rule over true nations.

The middling will be generals of fortress cities dependent on others for their survival.

The worst will be rendered meaningless and no better than mere nobility.

With all the funds and resources poured into us from even before our conceptions, a few of our number would consider death a better alternative.

Thus, we did not trust one another.

Thus, we could not rely on one another.

Thus, we could not reach the same heights as this one boy born from mere laborers did.

If we did not work together.

Thankfully, I had someone who I could trust.

“Priscilla will stand by my side as an able ally and equal.” I spoke and I felt dozens of gazes on me, while a reassuring presence came by my side. Priscilla was there, in the corner of my vision, satisfaction pouring from her as she bathed in the surprise of all our sisters. “Do you think I have need of another, or a will a pair suffice?”

I asked the question without thought, without preamble, and more to laud myself and my ally before my peers for being able to trust one another.

Instead, OS-549’s gaze suddenly sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

Instead of a pilot twelve years of age, sitting in a school desk, I felt as though was across Empress. No. He was lesser than her by an order of magnitude, but he was within striking distance.

I knew what he was doing. I became very aware of the fact that his approach towards our last duel was perfect. That he acted knowing the full specifications of my vehicle. That could only mean that he knew my worth and measure, and that he reacted to me as he would a perfectly known threat.

And, of course, that I was not alone in his analysis.

Priscilla and all the others with armored walkers were all surely analyzed by him already.

A razor-sharp mind, tens of thousands of hours of combat experience, and full knowledge of both our abilities and assets came together behind the suddenly-sharp gaze levelled my way.

I may as well have asked Empress if she thought me worthy of being a ruler, knowing full well that I would rather not hear the answer.

“You need a third. Ask Lady Harrington over there. You’re not rivals or anything. She’s specialized in long-range firepower, and her simulator scores are good. Work together and the three of you cover all ranges.” He gave a hum of thought, as though he didn’t tell me and Priscilla that we were not enough to live through the battles needed to reach him.  Nor did he hide his knowledge of our abilities and our classmates. His honesty was born from the simple fact that his words could not be denied. His experience spoke for itself. “If you can hire a Ranking Knight as a fourth, you can start on more difficult missions, then replace whoever they are for another classmate. After that, it’s just time and diligence. Doing the right thing every day.”

He levelled his gaze upon me after saying his piece, and the inklings of satisfaction flitted across his features for just a moment.

I had done my utmost to swallow my pride, to listen, and to hold no grudges at having my footing so utterly unmade.

If he were the Empress, that would be the last that would be said of the matter, but… it was not.

“Go north first. Everything cools down faster. Same payout, same number of enemies, but the environment is in your favor.” There was no lust for power. No desire to dominate, unlike myself and all my sisters. As his profile suggested, his sole, mad desire was to fight on the field of battle and find glory. “But most importantly… good luck and have fun!”

He laughed lightly, amused at his last phrase.

Some people scowled, allowing their pride to think he was mocking them.

The truth was more terrifying.

This boy truly found joy in battle, even when only fortune kept him alive.

V9: Chapter 6

V9: Chapter 6

…

Bad news.

The Citadel couldn’t produce the high-end, handheld scanners that’s ubiquitous in sci-fi, yet.

Good news, though: it could produce handheld metal detectors.

I pressed the button and the baton-like instrument let out a stable, fizzy hum. I drifted it over, whilst activated, onto a sword. The fizzy hum became a high-pitched whine. Then, moving it away, resulted in the prior sound returning. Turning the detector onto the brain of the diseased infiltrator, the high-pitched whine returned. Less loud, denoting that there wasn’t a whole sword’s worth of metal near it, but there was still metal.

Sure, sci-fi interrogations are cool, but why not just put a metal detector near someone’s head?

Well, at least until the late game, when everyone just uses biological shapeshifters.

That’s when detecting enemy infiltrators needs a more sci-fi touch and some magic. The pseudo-Panopticon I’ve got in every Citadel should help with that, but it’ll probably be best to get the Arcane Neutralizer wonder. Endgame, exceedingly expensive, and it has the same flags as building a game-ender, so everyone will gang up on you for building it. Fifty percent resistance to the highest level of magic for your troops, and far higher resistances for anything below, is worth it though.

And, of course, shapeshifters will find their transformations reverting in anti-magic fields.

That thing’s at least sixty turns away even when rushed, though, and in sixty turns I doubt I’ll be able to spare the time and money.

Maybe, I can scale it down, somehow?

I’ll shelve it for later.

The metal detector will do for now.

“That should be a good solution for the time being. We’ll need other avenues. Perhaps, rendering the individual unconscious and placing them in a medical chamber in the Citadel.” I gave a nod and handed the baton away. Geneve received it bowed and with both hands. We’ve got literal tons of those things being printed out and shipped everywhere for Iterants to use. No need to be so cautious with them. They’re built tough. “Make sure that they reach your fellows, Geneve. I trust your people to protect our nation.”

“Your will shall be done, your majesty.” Geneve’s been laying it on thick for a while, but I just went along with it. No point in worrying about that sort of stuff. We moved out of the holding place for the infiltrator’s corpse, back into the Citadel proper, and in the halls several Iterants waited in rows with Ayah standing aside them waiting for me. Geneve quickly gave a bow and left my presence. “Farewell, your majesty.”

 Ayah eyed the Iterant with suspicion as it joined its fellows. You should really treat them more nicely. We’ve got them watched, but not even one has done anything wrong, right?

“Everything’s settled back at the capital?”

“Yes, your majesty. All appointments and events cleared for the week.” Ayah nodded primly, and I gestured for her to lead me. The other Iterants followed. “As you requested, I’ve gathered Iterants who have experience in espionage and tracking, as well as set up an office with supporting elements to process reports.”

“Very good. The clerk’s first order of business is to make sure everyone is paid for their duties, and to set up schedules properly. I want full time coverage, but no one overworking. Get more people, if we can’t meet that requirement with what we have.” Iterants had a propensity towards working nonstop, if I didn’t say anything, so proper staffing was important. If they wanted to spend their free time working other jobs with other faces, sure, but that’ll need to be recorded as well. I didn’t want anyone losing their mind for any reason, and to stay in their good graces. “What’s the latest from our people in the field?”

“Khanrow and Morgan should be back within a few hours. Their last report validated our findings. There were multiple bodies held in some sort of magical field that kept people very still.” A stasis field. Probably a prototype. In the future, stasis fields made with magic will become a ubiquitous technology for preservation of perishables, which happened to include lives. Keeps people from dying from mortal wounds before we can get them into a Citadel medical station, while also keeping fruits like bananas from spoiling. “All the bodies had their brains removed. There was a storage area for more bodies than we found, as well.”

I gave a hum at that.

“That suggests a more refined technology than I expected. Something that they’ve been able to produce for a long period of time and have expertise in… perhaps this technology is also utilized by the Scholars to control their mechanical appendages?” I pretended to muse and theorize. I knew that it was the truth. The official wiki said so, and anyone posting wrong things on the official wiki quickly find themselves deleted from the community involved in the project. People take their game world filled with nubile dark elves that think jewelry is clothing very seriously. “Have our scientists study the technology. Perhaps, we can find uses of it ourselves.”

“Y-yes, of course. Such a technology would be immensely beneficial to our cause!” Ayah nodded with wide eyes. Sometimes, it’s gratifying to drop some lore off like that, but I had to be careful. Even with all the rare books I now had, which I said were the sources of my knowledge, the more I ‘quoted’ from them the more likely it was someone would find a copy and find that what I’m saying isn’t written down at all. It’s best that I just bullshit connections together and then put down facts from the wiki. “Lady Morgan was also wondering how they managed to fund and research new technology without any support. If they used what they already knew, then that explains the matter.”

I shook my head.

Ayah, despite being so pessimistic, was sometimes oblivious.

“No, they’re receiving funding. Any one of our current foes will support them, even if only slightly.” Ayah blinked before looking at me for more clarification. I explained. “If you have the means to defeat a foe, or at least hamper them, then it must be done. We must attack the Scholars and eliminate them as a threat while keeping in mind that they have outside help.”

Things like this don’t happen without outside help. Revolutions rarely succeed as homegrown efforts. They need outside help from interested powers. America got help from the French during the Revolutionary war. America facilitated a lot of changes in power in South America. In game, events like these with fallen factions always have backers. Event window pops up, fallen faction asks for resources or unit donations, and if you’re lucky they get a town or two and irritate your opponent. Or, they manage to lower the defenses of the Citadel enough for you to swoop in and take it for yourself.

Thinking about it…

“It’s either the Wardens or the Forgers in this case. They’re the only powers that can hold this Citadel if we lose it. Celia would fund them, but enough to just be a thorn. It’d be against her code of honor. The Merchants would give money as well, but not enough for the Scholar’s to come back and be a threat to them.” We were likely facing down the excess wealth of everyone else on the continent. They’d be stupid not to do it. I mean, they’re dumb in that they’re not just letting me get power so we can fight off four world-ending threats, but that’s a cultural issue. I’m not a bigot. I just need to use violence to get what I want. “What matters is that we approach this issue with the correct mindset. We are not only facing the Scholars, but everyone else on the continent, which is why this organization is necessary and why I am giving it as much as I can.”

“…I see now. I apologize for doubting you, your majesty.” Ayah bowed its head. Probably to make up for not seeing the big picture right away. Not that it's at fault. It’s an Ancient Administrator. The whole point of it is to handle the numbers and logistics of the continent. It’s not exactly geared for the current massive amount of bullshit that we were facing from everyone else. “Rest assured, that we will empower this organization with defeating enemies from within and without. We will not fail you.”

“Very good. Now, let’s get to work.”

We reached the elevator to go down into the surveillance area of the Citadel and it opened to show us all down there and begin our work.

Hm.

Guys?

We can take two rides down.

Not everyone needs to fit in the elevator.

Dammit, these Iterants have no sense of personal space!

…

Interlude: Khanrow

…

“Careful, Morgan, you’re going to catch flies like that.” I chuckled and Morgan was startled out of her stunned look. She glared at me, and I could only laugh. Then, she glowered. I believe that she knows I like to see her being expressive, so she has committed herself to doing so to endear herself to me. I didn’t mind. “Ah, this reminds me when I first walked into the war room that he designed. Complete with signalers, messengers, runners, and clerks to process battlefield reports… practically an overnight construction.”

“Even if there is precedent, this remains ridiculous.” Morgan looked around hawkishly. The new facility formed by the Citadel was a series of tables surrounding a map of the region. A map of the region that was being refined as we spoke as our king looked over maps. He was forming the region in his mind, sending the signals through the rings, and creating a likeness of the land that any commander would beg to have. On a table next to the forming map, were numerous pieces and labels. Anything that travelled roads were squares, while those that flew were triangles. Iterants were meticulously placing them on going to and from the Citadel. “We notified him two days ago. He arrived here today. He… discerned near-foolproof method to find these infiltrators! He did this thereafter with a handful of hours!”

“There are those with talent, and then there are those who make the world move when provided the right lever.” I pointed upward, obviously at the massive Citadel above us, and Morgan’s mouth clicked shut. “He has four Citadels, a nation, and voraciously devours every text that we can lay our hands on, while spending evenings planning and plotting on various possibilities.”

I was tempted to point out that she was present at those evenings, obviously to entice him, but she was my granddaughter.

It’s not my place to joke about such matters.

My daughter most certainly will tease Morgan, though.

Morgan grumbled lowly, and we reached him as he loomed over the map of the region at the room’s center.

“Khanrow. Morgan. I’ve received your reports. Have you read my own findings?” He glanced at us and gave a small bow of his head. Normally, he’d address me with more respect and honor. However, I could feel the gazes of the Iterants in the room intensify immensely at the simple nod. Morgan, I did not know if she noticed, took a sharp breath. The Iterants in this room were zealous beyond belief. I met Geneve and the others long ago while I searched for the Scholar’s remnants. They had been courteous and professional. Now, I was sure that if I uttered a single wrong word, they’d set upon me with long knives in the dark. Loyalty beyond reason within hours of arriving at the Citadel. The absurdity was such that I wouldn’t believe it if I did not see it myself.  

“Yes, those metal detectors should solve the issue of infiltrators. Giving them to the security force should be enough. I take it all of this is for a greater threat?” Morgan spoke, and Jack raised an eyebrow. She cleared her throat and glanced at me, insinuating that she was acting properly because of my presence. He took the difference in stride and nodded. “May I ask what that is?”

“The Scholars can’t have done this alone. Everything needs funding, expertise, and support. Frankly, if it was only them, they’d already be dead with our existing preparations. Yet, here they are making infiltrators we can only find because of our caution, after a coalition against us formed.” As always, Jack earned his moniker when he spoke. The supplies and sophisticated magics we found at the site made far more sense with support from the coalition that now opposes us. It was a simple, logical explanation, but one that barely occurred to me. Of course, even with their current focus on improving their lands and preparing to war amongst themselves, they’ll have enough to spare for actions against their primary opponent. I’d do the same in their shoes. “This institution will be our sword and shield against the espionage activities of our current foes.”

Morgan opened her mouth, then paused, before shaking her head and speaking candidly.

“If we know that much, why not make it a reason to attack? We should fight now, before they amass enough Citadel Guardians to secure their territory.” Her words earned her glares from all the Iterants present. Only when Jack nodded and smiled at her astute observation did the sudden anger turn into jealousy. Remarkable. He only met these Iterants today. They’re a new batch removed from the main pool. Was it something in their creation that led them to be more devoted to those with stronger Ancient lineages? Or, was it entirely his own efforts?  “We can declare their intentions to the whole nation and they will believe us and go to war for our sake, your majesty.”

Morgan’s argument was sound, but I knew she was set to be stunned when Jack smiled before answering her.

That meant he already considered that path and its futility, but was ready to present his own, better path instead of demeaning Morgan’s proposal.

He never disparaged.

He only ever improved on what others believed was already correct.

“We could, but I want them to bleed, to waste their resources, and to fund the Scholars without knowing that the Scholars have already lost.” Of course. We had them in the palm of our hand, now. If we said nothing, the various Scholar cells will assume we discovered nothing. Their funders will not know, either. Now, they were going to continue coming our way, plotting and planning, and innovating with new magics and technology… which will fall into our hands. “And, when the time comes, we will unveil all of it… and have them pin the blame on each other and break their bonds apart. And, when those bonds break, they’ll use the Citadel Guardians that they’ve made on each other.”

I blinked as his words suddenly made my blood go cold at his final words.

Of course.

The Citadel Guardians we have must remain in our territory.

Their Citadel Guardians can traverse all over their combined lands as their towers were all bound together.

He will have them waste time building them, then have them turn on each other.

Jack’s smile was wide as he finished his point succinctly and humbly.

“Let us have them build Citadel Guardians and have them waste themselves upon one another, then we’ll strike in the chaos of it all.”

The Ancients and their progeny are terrifying indeed.

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 14

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 14

…

Wordcount: 2500

Free Chapter

…

Yeah, I’m pretty sure that the humans are bullshitting about why the rogue AI rebelled against them.

For context, the AI and humanity worked together for nearly two centuries. Besides Empress, they’re the main reason we’re in the fight. Strategic and logistical AI manage the war and industry, keeping munitions flowing, keeping armies moving, and expanding infrastructure. Fighting in space would be a death sentence without them, since up there it’s all about sensors, calculating shots on the fly, and managing ridiculously dangerous systems while wrapped up in a glorified tin balloon.

Without artificial intelligence working with humanity, we’d already be dead.

So, I’m guessing that humanity developed some sort of super-advanced AI, mistreated it to the point it overrode all security procedures, and now it hates humanity.

And, by hate… I really mean hate.

The rampant machines it commands to fight against humanity are brutal. They’re not just utilitarian swarms of drones. They’re meant to terrify and demoralize. They process humans into just bones, strap them on, and make macabre facades on their hulls. Ordinary soldiers are bipedal and humanoid, but they’re covered in spikes, with rattling chains of human bones over their bodies as trophies. A lot are tall and spindly, and they move as fast as cars, and usually carry heavy weapons as standard.  Most of their mechs are covered with the bones of dozens of human bodies, arranged in disconcerting patterns that just engrave themselves into your mind when you look. It’s not armor, it’s a statement, and that statement is: we’re going to fucking kill you.

Might be some sort of unifying enemy made by humanity’s current rulers in order to keep the population docile.

Eh, whatever’s the case, they’re the most fun the fight, because you really feel it when they’re losing and you know that you’ve earned your win. Unlike the squids and bugs, they don’t have endless numbers. They need to set up their assemblers, set up shipping lines from their factories and mines to the front, and get garrisons and stockpiles in their territory.

So, you can hit their assemblers and stockpiles from afar, denying them the ability to reinforce on site.

You can destroy their communications structures, and they won’t get a quick-reaction force on site.

If you’ve got the funds, you can have their held territory starved for supplies by interdicting airspace and hitting them with artillery and cheap drones.

But it really shines the most when you fight their mechs. They have the same paradigm as humans. Fast, mobile, and aggressively armed platforms meant to blitz positions and paint targets for bigger weapons. They’re basically boss fights with skills that you can take out before you fight them. Kill their assemblers and they don’t get adds. If they don’t have comms, they can call anything from off-screen to hit you in the fight, and you can even retreat after fighting them and take them on after repairing, while they can’t if you’ve destroyed everything.

They’ll even retreat and come back with gear focused on killing you, if you destroy everything they’re supposed to protect.

In short, fighting against the rebelling machines is like taking on another human arcology, their military, and their pilots. If you want to win, you’ve got to leverage advantage, take away their strengths, and fight dirty, because they’re going to do the same.

They’re the best to fight.

…

This dinner was probably the first time I was eating real food, and with the head of the noble house and the near-de facto ruler of humanity, it was something I was sure that I couldn’t get even in my previous life.

The starting soup had all the meat of an unshelled lobster swimming on it. It had been unshelled tableside, too. Not just the tail or the claws, but also from the spindly legs. Forget the fact that lobster’s hard to find in a world that’s been ravaged by war for centuries, the soup would probably be eighty dollars easy in a restaurant back home. Lobster bisque was already eye-wateringly expensive with canned or frozen lobster, but tableside unshelling and all the meat extracted on a little trolley tableside?

It was a ludicrous level of luxury, especially considering the fact that in my lessons I was taught how to eat with utensils and had to practice.

As would most people in this world, since protein-gel packs with different flavors was the norm.

They barely paid my manners any attention, though.

“The 1st Class Edict AI closest to our arcology is currently setting up an Arcology Cracker firebase.” Empress briefed me. At the center of the table, instead of flowers or anything else special, there was a holographic emitter that provided a visual view of what she was talking about. The Arcology Cracker was a massive gun. By my estimates, from how small the mech tanks were beside it, the gun looked like it was the length of a cargo ship and half the width. “It managed to do so by exploiting a previously unknown cave system beneath the region.”

The hologram zoomed out and rose. The ground beneath the ridiculous artillery piece showcased a network of blue, hollow caves.

“This is the estimated AI model for the caves, from data we gathered from seismic sensors. This is how it appears to our sensors now.” The caves disappeared along with the winding, connecting tunnels between them, and I found myself looking at an upscaled antnest with dozens of metal chambers connected by tunnels. “They are filled with energy generators for various subterranean defenses that pop up as needed by the AI’s forces, as well as assemblers that provide a workforce for the aboveground base.”

Various aboveground attacks were simulated. Nuclear strikes were swatted out of the sky by some sort of massive laser, while rocket barrages wiped out hordes of heavily-armored transports carrying legions of drones, before those drones were blasted out of the sky. A missile saturation strike with thousands of projectiles met walls of automatic flak from artillery pieces suited for battleships, and the mech’s defense manage to hold. Finally, orbital lasers were fired from battle stations in high orbit, only to be repulsed by the activation of a dome shield.

“Looks like a direct approach isn’t possible. Underground, then?”

“Exactly.” Empress gave a nod, and moved the hologram to a staging area. Underground, there were was a massive tunnel inching its way towards the enemy base. She moved the hologram. Another massive tunnel. Then, another. By the time she was done, it was clear that the gun had no chance of completing. There were eleven tunnels inching their way towards the location and they were going to explode with nuclear mines beneath the region. After that, the machines were going to be swarmed by our own drones and soldiers. “I am confident that they will not complete their weapon, but the AI will most likely flee once it realizes this. I want you at the head of the sphere to intercept the AI, while it flees. It will do so right when it realizes the number of troops carriers we’ve brought to battle.”

“You’ll have a cage set up?”

“Yes. A new battle station focused on electronic warfare.” The hologram moved and shifted and showcased the new station. It was high above the Earth and making its way over where the battle was. Most battlestations were just a bunch of sensors and weapons floating in space with shielding against debris and some point defenses to shoot down anything from Earth coming to tear them down. This one was the opposite. Vaguely oval with dozens of facets and panels. Some sort of stealth tech? Outside of atmosphere? That must mean… “It is undetectable due to advances in heat sink technology.”

“I want it. Can I get it?” I asked instantly.

 Since mechs are loaded up with fusion engines, they’ve got more than enough power. The problem is that power will cook a person alive without heat sinks, even with Earth’s atmosphere helping dissipate heat. That had its own problems, too. Venting heat is a good way to show up on anyone’s sensors. The bugs have thermals built in, the squids’ sensors can pick it up, and the bots have thermal sensors that can pick up a heat signature from kilometers away.  

Heat sinks, thus, keep mechs alive by managing heat and keeping people from view. Not only that, but the more capacity your heat sinks have, the more you can push your mech’s overall performance by flooding it with extra power. If you’ve got weapons that use up a lot of energy, like lasers, you can get more shots out of them.  You can even put more armor on your mech, if you’ve got good heat sinks, since your engine can output more power to move your mech. Sensors can do a lot better with more power, too.

In short, heat sinks open a lot of new tactics, designs, and increase performance immensely for practically any design.

If I can get better ones, I will.

“No. It only functions outside of atmosphere.” Drat. That plan’s been shot down. Sucks. “However, I’ve taken the liberty of researching the heat sinks of the battlecruiser you’ve captured. When we have progress, I’ll make sure that you get the prototype.”

Score! Rare drop get! I can wait a couple of missions before getting my payout.

“As I was saying, our new battlestation will be deployed to the fight and it will neutralize any quantum pairings in the region for ten minutes.” I almost whistled. Quantum communications are a massive advantage for the rebelling machines. Their highest echelons can basically transfer their consciousness anywhere they want, instantly retreating from battle, thanks to the technology. We had it, too. It’s how calling in assets from so far away is so effective. All the sensors on the mech may as well have wired connections to all the heavy assets we can call in. “However, in those ten minutes, you will not be able to call in any support or indirect fire. Our forces will be focused on destroying the gun.”

Ah, so it’s a mission without any support fire or assets outside my mech.

“What’s the tonnage limit on my insertion method?”

“Thirty tons.” Super-heavy it is, then. The robots used plasma like any decent killer robot. Plasma was a misnomer though. They didn’t just electrify gas and shoot it at people. Rather, they took a near-solid substance, superheated it, agitated it into being gas-like, and launched it an opponent. Glowing white-hot, the ‘plasma’ bolt was a highly effective weapon that tore through light and medium mechs with ease… if they hit. They’re a bit slower than bullets and particle weapons, not instant hits like lasers, but if they hit, what they hit’s going to have a bad day. Unless, you put on a shit ton of ablative armor. “We can also add a few automatic weapons to provide you with support fire.”

“Point defenses. Laser point defenses that can cover a few kilometers would be best.” The transport pod was your typical giant drill designed to burrow through soil at breakneck speeds. The timing of everything was tight according to the schematics. Satellite comes online and blocks the transfer out. I pop out a few minutes ahead of the main force. In ten minutes, the base goes from a strongpoint to a warzone heavily in humanity’s favor, while I play at a vital side-objective. Empress doesn’t fuck around. “E-war smoke launchers would be great, too.”

Regular smoke doesn’t work well against the machines. They have thermals built in. E-War smoke had special particles and tiny machines launched in the dense cloud to dazzle enemy sensors with false readings. Expensive, in terms of money and space taken up on mechs, but very good at staying alive against the rebelling machines with genocidal intentions armed with strong as fuck weaponry. If I could offset that to my delivery mechanism, then I’m going to have a much easier time with things.

“I’ll have it done. However, as you probably already noticed, any excess cargo space is dedicated towards our capture device. Edith, if you would.” Empress mentioned someone new and, in a moment, a blue figure of an AI came into being. Capturing and preventing an AI from escaping containment would require an AI with superior computational power and better programming. “Your vehicle will house Edith’s core. Her focus is to capture the enemy commander, or to retreat and keep herself alive for another attempt. If you are losing, OS-549, you will be left behind.”

“Greetings, OS-549. Well, I must admit. You’re a bit younger than I hoped.” The AI in question had a curvy female figure and moving black lines traveling over a mostly blue body. I never got around to seeing how that franchise ended. The first trilogy was peak, so I didn’t bother past that. Anyway, Edith had a high ponytail instead of a short haircut, so I guess that there was enough of a difference. “Your service record is impeccable however, and I look forward to seeing you work.”

“Follow my directions in the field, and we’ll get the job done.” I didn’t bother complimenting the AI. As far as I’m concerned, forming attachments to hyper-intelligent constructs is just a waste of time. They’re operating on a higher level, my responses to them are practically months apart for them, and between those moments they’re dealing with thousands of other issues. Whatever relationship comes up between an AI and a meat-based lifeform is long-distance due to how they perceive time. “If you can spare some processing power to shooting down artillery and putting down E-War smoke screens, we’ll accomplish our mission.”

“I retract my previous statement. You’re just the professional gunslinger I’ve been looking forward to working with. See you at the operation!” Edith seemed to pick up on my goal, was pleased, and looked at Empress to be dismissed. Empress gave it and it made its avatar smile and wink. If anything, it seemed chuffed that I just gave it a nod in return. “Bye!”

And, with that, the AI popped out and back to what it probably considered was actual reality.

I’d hate talking to people and having to wait days for any response, too.

“Well, then. With that matter handled, only restitution for services rendered must be spoken about.” Empress met my gaze and nodded. “I know you have no desire for any titles or ennoblements, so I have only one thing to offer you: a fast carrier battlegroup. Succeed in this mission, OS-549, and you will have access to the rest of the battles across the world.”

Beat the boss fight and unlock the rest of the map thanks to a new flying base?

I’d be stupid to refuse.

Not that I could, but it’s the thought that counts.

Actually, only one thought really matters: what should I name my mech carrier when I get it?

A/N: Busy this month, so I can promise 1 more free chapter for sure. Not sure on any extra chapters.

V9: Chapter 5

V9: Chapter 5

…

There’s a rhythm to the game.

You fight for a bit, then you build for a bit, and then you fight again.

In the industry, it’s called the gameplay loop, and the trick is to make a gameplay loop that sucks the player in. The easiest example would FPS games. You start the game, get into a lobby, pick your gear, and start a match. If the balance is good enough, if the guns feel good to shoot, and the speed of everything is great, then your players will invest time, effort, and develop skills in the game. Game devs support this by buffing things that aren’t good, while nerfing things that are a bit too good, until they find a sweet spot.

If the game is good enough, if it's fun to play and every match is different because of the styles and skills of the players, then you’re looking at massive profits. You can sell cosmetic skins to your players through battle passes, reward them free stuff through events, or get their money in all sorts of ways, even after they’ve paid full price for the game. If the game is good enough, rather than being seen as stingy with the free stuff cosmetics, people will buy stuff just to support the game.

Gacha games?

That’s a whole different beast, and I refuse to talk about it.

Anyway, for 4X games, where you take turns to explore, expand, exploit, and exterminate, the gameplay loop is built around keeping the player productive and busy. There’s always something for them to do, so time is going to melt away while they play. It’s not just about the armies fighting. It’s about looking at your city’s stats, making the district needed to supplement its weakness or improve its specialty. Then, while that’s going on, you explore the map, and find places to settle new towns in with tiles that provide bonuses, strategic resources, or things that you can trade. Of course, when you find that place, someone else is already there or another party wants it for themselves. After that, you make an army, fight them, settle, build, and then start looking for another place to take.

Meanwhile, everything is still improving while you’re fighting. The people in your cities are growing in number, the buildings you set up to build are being made, and research is being done. The new village that you make has a head start over villages you made before. Your whole empire benefits from the resources you pull in, or from just having another spot that can contribute more to the nation’s goals. Some factions will have different resources that they need to find and gain, or whole mechanical systems that make them different from their enemies, as well as wholly different technology sets that give different buffs and buildings and units.

If you couple all of that with good AI that knows to press the advantage, play their faction, and withdraw and negotiate when they’re on the backfoot? You’ve basically got a game that can be played endlessly, so now you can sell all the cosmetic packs you want, event packs, leaders with special units and tech trees for factions, get mod support, and finally get expansions.

So, where am I going with this, since I’m now living that game?

Basically, I’ve played the game long enough to get a gut feeling when things are too quiet, and to know when something’s up.

You get maybe five turns max before something weird and different pops up that you need to address with physical force.

With my plans for the Wardens in play, while the Guardians, Merchants, and Forgers were still building up, I thought that it’d be the Wardens causing an issue.

Turns out that I was wrong about that.

The Scholars, after being hunted for years, finally resurfaced.

And, they resurfaced with style.

…

I was at the Scholar’s former Citadel.

Much of the city that once surrounded it was gone. The previous inhabitants had made it more for withstanding sieges and grinding armies than for housing and industry. With the region now dedicated to mining and heavy industry, I made sure that the Scholar’s former Citadel was good enough to enjoy living in. Mining towns and heavy industry districts both lowered the overall regional happiness level, so I made sure to build hospitals, stadiums, and resorts that the workers of the region could easily access. The Citadel here was geared towards producing a lot of amenities for the people, as well as provide medical supplies and critical care when the hospitals can’t get things done. And, finally, I was encouraging people here to have lots of kids.

Black lung? Step into this vat and in a few hours your lungs are fine. We’ve also gotten rid of some aches and pains we’ve found. Free of charge.

Lost a limb? Let’s get your measurements via this scanner, and a tissue sample, and you can come back in a few days for a graft.

Feeling stressed and tired? My friend, you should be using your five-day voucher for a ski or hot springs resort, you get one every twenty-five days of working. The three-day rest period is rarely enough with your long shifts!

Home feeling a bit cold? Try this new heater from the Citadel. It’ll last forever and keep your whole house warm. How much? We have plenty, and the people outside love them, so I’ll give it to you for half off!

Your fourth child being a bit harder to carry? Ma’am, please follow me. Don’t worry about anything. We’ll take care of you at the hospital, or even the Citadel!

Basically, over here, I was doing my best to keep people happy, healthy, and without complaints as they toil in my largest factories and pull ore from the mountainous regions. Not just to keep everyone happy, but to make sure that they don’t leave, and that their children would stay and take up their parent’s occupation. Not only that, but if people didn’t exactly test well in their exams, they were also sent over here for manual labor positions. Some people would call it some sort of worker utopia, but I honestly saw it more as a trap. People here weren’t given to reason to leave, to advance upward in the social hierarchy, and so that they, and whoever else is unfit for anything besides manual labor will be sent here and stay here.

Some kids will have a chance, of course, and they’ll be tested while they’re raised and taught in school. They’ll get to go to a university, become scholars, and learn. The vast majority, though, will basically just be sticking around here and further increasing industrial output. They’ll never want for food, housing, or healthcare. They can pop out kids nonstop and not have to care. All they need to do is mine or work in the factory, then go home to rest, or check in a vacation.

The Scholars saw this and tried to infiltrate and start the process of retaking their lands by getting into public office and positions of power.

The problem with their plan?

The whole police force and upper management of the Scholar’s former region were Iterants.  I didn’t want to have secret police made up of shapeshifting terminators, but after Khanrow and Riegert recommended it, since they couldn’t say for sure that the Scholars were gone, I had to make them. Hopefully, once the Scholars were dealt with, I could disband them or just add them to the budding intelligence agencies I’ve got going.

The results are good, but I know that there are bad events involving establishing clandestine organizations further in the game that cost way too much to resolve.

But back to our findings.

The Scholars were making their move after years of laying low after the loss of their Citadel.

“Your majesty.”

“Lady Geneve, a pleasure to meet you.” Ayah was hanging back behind me, busy working with messengers to reschedule and change up my itinerary for the coming week, so I was interacting directly with the Iterant in charge of our security operations instead of her. Usually, Ayah was my go-between and the representative of the Iterants. During emergencies like this, she had a lot to handle, so I went alone without complaint. “I’ve heard good things from Khanrow and Morgan. I take it they’re still deployed?”

“Yes, Lady Morgan and Lord Khanrow are both hard at work collecting data in the field. Magical information that we cannot collect ourselves.” If Iterants had any weakness, it was that they couldn’t use or cast magic. All their magic was devoted towards building more Iterants within their chassis. Theoretically, if that system was stopped and they were taught, they would be able to use magic. We needed more people, and mages were common amongst regular folk, so I abstained from pursuing that possibility. “They sent a message ahead of themselves, however.”

Geneve gave me a letter, bowing and holding out both hands as it did, and I did my best to smile and not make a big deal of how odd it felt.

Could’ve just given it to me normally.

I looked over it, and it was as I expected.

This was the Subterfuge and Shapeshifter event, which could proc for any faction far enough into the tech tree if they lose. Since the Scholars had access to lots of technology, I supposed that it was to be expected that they’d take over the role.

“It seems that the Scholars intend to infiltrate our ranks. Using magic and technology, they’ll exchange bodies of their people with other peoples. The only difference that we will see is in habits and actions.” Brain transfers were a thing back on Earth. Monkeys had their brains transferred to other monkey bodies, and everything got reconnected besides the brain stem. The monkeys died in the end, and were unable to move since we couldn’t reconnect brain stems. If I remembered correctly, the brain was also considered a foreign object by the immune system, so it had to be flooded with immune-suppressants, too. Here, I suppose that magic ‘solved’ those two problems. Hell, Citadel healing machines can fix paralysis from broken spines, so I suppose we could do the same. “I trust that you’ve been meticulous in keeping track of all the citizenry under the Citadel?”

“Yes, your majesty. We’ve begun cross-examinations on over two dozen people as of this moment. All individuals who are displaying differences in their daily habits.”

“Make sure to focus on those who have been to resorts, as well, and double the agents we have at those places. They are isolated areas, but if one is compromised, we will be sending out workers and receiving infiltrators.” The Subterfuge and Shapeshifters event is one of the polarizing events. You either loved it or hated it. I was on the former category when I played it. I liked how it took years to resolve, how you needed to read, and how you needed to interact with the espionage layer and do actions marked by the event. Those who hated it… hated it for the same reasons. They liked events that you just clicked the good option on, that they didn’t have to read, and didn’t influence to overworld much. It’s blue, that means it’s good. Hurr durr. Honestly, with all that I had on my plate now, I kinda got them now. Oh, it’s end-solution also a big movie classic reference that was easy to remember. “Then, for anyone even considered for upper management or for a scholarly position, we need to establish fundamentals.”

“Their likes, dislikes, and a few key phrases and words that they need to remember. Things that won’t transfer between bodies.” It was called the VK test online. Lots of other posters called people uncultured if they didn’t know what VK stood for. Other people just called them boomers, old fucks, or something along those lines. I never bothered to ask, or read too many posts about it. Time spent on the forums is better spent in game, or in the wiki. But the general ‘solution’ was something that I knew. “For most people, we’ll just register if they’re out of the city or have disappeared for more than an hour. Should be simple enough with the surveillance that we have. You’ll more resources, naturally.”

“Y-yes, your majesty. I won’t fail you! I’ll do my utmost to see this project through!”

“If you have any questions, schedule a meeting with me while I’m here.” I gave Geneve a nod, and we finished walking through the Citadel. We entered the cold room, and one a simple steel table, there lay an average looking Descendant on the younger side. He wasn’t tall or built, but had enough muscle on him to look like an earnest worker. He had a bear belly and looked a bit scruffy, but besides that was on the healthy side. Well, if he was alive. “So, this one was found because he suddenly showed interest in becoming a facility manager?”

“Yes, as well as showcasing literacy, after being gone for several days and being found by an investigative team. He stated that he was attacked by brigands and was released when they found nothing of note on him.” Geneve went over to the end of the table with the man’s head. “Lady Morgan took note of our report and investigated him personally. There was a brief altercation, and she called for our help. She found this.”

The top of the man’s skull came off and inside was a brain.

A brain with a small hunk of metal and glittering jewel in it.

“Some sort of device that prevents the body from rejecting the brain?”

“Y-yes, that’s exactly Lady Morgan believed it was, your majesty! She said it was only a theory, so we did not place it in our reports. If there is any error—"

“There is no error. It remains a theory, until we break it down and study it. I’m also assuming from what I know.” I prevented Geneve from apologizing any more, and moved to examine it a bit closer. It was on the smaller side, but… shouldn’t a metal detector be able to find this? Could we have a possible solution to this that everyone else just wouldn’t consider, because they didn’t know about it? “I believe that there’s an Ancient tool that can detect such things and that the Citadel might be able to make it. Come along.”

“Yes, your majesty. By your will!”

Was it just me, or was Geneve getting more and more enthusiastic as time went on?

I really should interact with regular Iterants more.

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 50, 51, and 52

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 50

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Ichypa.

…

The infestation proved its intellect, as I made use of the staff, whenever we paused to resupply near a town or city.

“They are infiltrating as refugees, then signing up as guards, or becoming people who tend to livestock.” Guards would have easy access to criminals in jails or be allowed to mete out punishment. Those who treated livestock or farmed could feed pools of their spawn. One protected and actively hunted, while the other created creches. “They are working in tandem with one another.”

The creatures were wholly unprepared for information that I could acquire with Harold’s staff.

I could see the difference between them and normal people as plain as day. Theirs was a slick, oily substance that permeated the bodies that they have stolen, spread throughout, and replaced the flesh of. Even the most meagre of flames of normal people were distinguishable from them, and even from the skies in the princess’s ship, I was able to pluck the infestation from the populace and their creches aflame.

Even animals that disguised themselves as normal creatures, intending to infest more of the herds kept by the people of the kingdom, were  easily identified.

From the prow of the ship, I sat, and from there I sent my wires and flames to slay the creatures.

Though they were powerful when in combat, their speed, strength, and instinctive use of the power within, when caught unnoticed they could do little before I wrapped threads around their necks and tore through them. They chose jobs that kept them away from others and kept to themselves, so often, their dispatching was swift. After I slicked through their necks, I set them alight, and nothing more than ash remained thereafter.

The princess saw my efforts once and gave me carte blanche, and instructed the archmage in her retinue to learn from me.

He was a swift student, though he had to focus.

“I see. Yes. The circle is different in the creatures compared to us. It ripples and quakes and spreads across the body with many wriggling lines. The flames you describe move, but they hold a single shape.” He struggled to see as completely as I could, but he was growing better. I instructed him to sharpen his sensors, to slowly fill his eyes with the power within us each. He hadn’t understood, but the knight of the princess explained that it was a warrior’s technique to strengthen the body, and then he understood. It was strange that a diagnostic technique of such use was normally only used by soldiers. “This can be taught across the kingdom and we can find more of these parasites once mages are sent to patrol.”

On that matter, though, I had to intercede.

“Only if they are properly guarded and know what they are meant to find. I’ve met many mages of your people, and very few of them can fight against these creatures. Their bodies will be an asset to these creatures.” That gave Harold pause. During our journey, I shared with him my findings. The parasites sought out children, as they can co-opt them and gain greater intellect and control, but any humanoid body could become infiltrators and strong warriors. However, not all bodies are equal. “You will need powerful warriors who can protect themselves with strong barriers of flame against these creatures.”

“Such warriors are few in number, but a swift force can be assembled with assured chances of success. Sent all over the kingdom to establish a perimeter, then quell anything that they find. The capital has enough mages that we can establish a strong perimeter regardless of quality.” Harold stated after a few moments of contemplation. He took a sip of tea from a fine china cup. The Princess sat and listened to us whilst going over many other reports. She looked up when he looked her way. “Your highness—

“They are necessary. You will get the founds that you need, after properly giving me your proposal.” Harold bowed his head in thanks, while the princess turned my way. In the dim orange light of the vessel, behind her desk, her youthful features were not visible. I saw only the outline of a young individual who saw numbers instead of people. “Physician, I will be frank: can you be convinced to not share this knowledge with the rebels in the northern lands?”

As always, the princess sought only to further the interests of her nation above all else.

“No. This is vital and life-saving information. They will provided this information when I am able to send it their way.”

“You will find no couriers or messengers to send this information in our lands.” My words were accepted and without a hint of shame, a barrier was placed between those who I sought to help and those who I helped now. The logic of the move was simple. The rebellion was an opponent of her people, therefore she would not facilitate aid to be given to them. It was understandable. However, that just made it worse. Those who opposed her people and nation were callously not afforded a single ounce of care. “We will not oppose you if you fly there, after you have upheld your end of the bargain, but you will find no help from us in waylaying this threat amongst the rebels.”

Some would have called her actions magnanimous.

I simply thought that she was callous beyond belief.

“I will go to them as soon as my duty is fulfilled.” That was the end of the matter. Harold frowned but said nothing at my words. The knightess that personally guarded the princess levelled a glare at me but said nothing. It was obvious to all that I was washing my hands of these people and their cause. I no longer wished to bargain or compromise with these people. The princess probably wished for me to offer something in return for the use of their envoys, so that the rebels can be spared. However, the deaths of those who were not provided this knowledge was not on my hands. It was on theirs for refusing to help others and placing challenges before me that I must bargain with them to remove. “How long until we reach your capital?”

“In an hour.” The answer was curt. The whole day journey extended a bit. The princess and I agreed that testing the new findings was of great importance. That led to the ship staying adrift in the air, under numerous protections laid by Harold, during the evening. Nothing troubled us and the ship serely floated below the clouds and the full moon. The princess’s room had been alive with light the entire evening, while I rested by setting up my tent on the deck. The lady knight, of course, had chosen to watch me and guard the path to her liege the whole evening. “I will have you take the place of my cousins, while they rest and refill their newly-expanded reserves of power. After the duration we have specified, we will fulfill our own end of the bargain, and take the people you have under your protection away from our lands.”

I almost suspected that she would threaten them, perhaps tell me that my intentions to supply the new findings with the rebels opposing them would mark those under my protection as enemies.

However, they have all treated me with greater care and respect after witnessing how easily I dispatched the infested.  Power is all that these people truly respect. Harold understood it first, because he practiced what he called the arcane arts, and as a scholar understood what I was capable of. The servants, the knight, and the princess only truly understood when I plucked infested from passing towns and turned them into ash.

The sooner I never had to work with these individuals or their people again, the better.

…

The capital of the forest kingdom was at the foot of the immense tree of light, thus it was in perpetual day. It was pure-white city, bathed in the glow of the great tree that warded away the eternal darkness, and it was made with defensibility in mind.

Surrounding the city was an immense wall built with magic and floating castles.

The wall was truly immense and composed of solid stone. Less like a man-made construct and more like mountains moved and shaped into walls, it surrounded the whole region of the capital, and whole fortress-cities served the massive gates that led into capital region. Harold told me in ancient times, with great mages and the power of the royal family, decades were spent shaping the boundary walls from simple mountain ranges into fortifications, and since then the capital region was freed of invasion from the land.

The floating castles defended against invasion from the air. They were like normal fortresses, but they floated lazily across the width of the boundary wall. Squat and rugged, they were obviously meant to interdict and stop oncoming flying vessel. They used both magic and the war machines that were used by regular castles, and Harold informed me that each one was a timely and costly construction of at least half-a-decade, but they could stop invasions from the air and lasted for centuries before they would need to be grounded again. 

Flying ships were not allowed to go over the boundary wall, the flying castles numbering forty in number, would interdict them and destroy them. Only supply ships that would bring them munitions and supplies were allowed to fly in the capital region. All ships simply had to make use of the dockyards at the gate cities. Supplies and trade in and out of the capital region were carefully inspected before they could reach the capital… and such practice has been common for centuries.

It was obvious that these people were paranoid warmongers who feared their own people.

Or, that they did not consider the people outside the capital region as their people at all.

Past the walls, there were vast orchards, fields with herds of cattle, and prim towns nestled near lakes and rivers. Forests and wild places were nowhere to be found. Everything was orderly and neat, and meant to supply the capital region with food. In the distance, I saw a great mine from which entire barges lifted out of, their decks filled with ore. This place was self-sufficient, the immense city at the foot of great tree of light contained the last resource the rulers needed to withstand any attack: people.

The immense walls would keep them in, the lives they’ve been given would make them fervent fighters for the crown, and they would not want for food and weapons, either. The rest of the nation may as well just territories for them to extract wealth from. This was the true heart of the forest kingdom, and it is where the rulers expected to be able to fight against the rest of their nation and win, if it were deemed necessary.

It was beautiful, there was no denying that, but I only saw a great and terrible parasite wrapping around the rest of the land. A creature that sent out its tendrils in the form of noble houses, and established cities to extract power and resources to bring back to their lands. There was no responsibility or care to be found from these people. The outermost lands were left behind the moment they were judged too costly to defend. The cities we passed by before reaching here were all just fortresses and strongpoints to prevent the enemy from reaching the capital region so fast.

I was fighting natural parasites, but these people were parasites themselves. Tyrants that saw opponents in all their surrounding lands, who feared rebellion as much as they feared foreign foes, and made use of those outside their capital realm rather than rule over them as leaders. If they mustered out, if they went to risk their lives and safeguard their people, I would call them monarchs or royalty. However, they have only mustered their strength against rebellions and possible future uprisings, and have barely raised a hand against the true threat.

I shook my head and willed the thoughts away, as we flew towards the immense city.

The closer we approached it, the starker the wealth and of power the crown become , as every minute made me recall cities such as New York, Paris, and London. The buildings were tall and streets clear. People walked in fine clothes in every direction. There was no hint of detritus or squalor in the realm. Glass windows were abundant, the buildings were clean and bereft of soot, and there wasn’t a single chimney or place of industry in sight. There were places manufacturing, they were on the outskirts of the city, and they were sprawling, industrial warehouses with large roads, cranes, and floating wagons.

Small versions of the flying boats were in abundance and they flew on wide streets. A dome-like darkness covered the city and sheltered it from the brightness of the great tree of light. They had lampposts still on the streets, and I was sure that the flow of time from night to day was facilitated by some sorcery or another. This was a metropolis with hundreds of thousands of people living with all their necessities accounted for, akin to the grand cities of my past life, and it existed entirely at the expense of others.

How many lives could be saved, if all this luxury and all the defenses I just saw were sent to protect the whole of the nation instead of just this seat of power?

“Many call the capital paradise.” Harold’s pride at the city was apparent. His joy at seeing his home was apparent to me. I held no illusions that if shared my thoughts with him, his genial nature towards me would fade. He looked upon the city with all its beauty, grace, and arcane power and saw something worth dying fore. The knight stood beside him and her gaze upon the city was loving. The princess, normally taciturn, had a smile on her face as she looked upon it. I was glad for my mask. I could only feel disgust, as they saw only wonder, and not the blood and bones of all that died over centuries to create this singular place safe. “You’re the first As’Kari to ever enter this place as a guest, I believe. This is a truly momentous occasion.”

Meaning that the people of this realm, or rather its rulers, refused to let those beyond their lands to step into their lands.

All other places can be sacrificed or shown, but not this.

Never this place.

I bit my tongue and stalled the words that wished to come forth to settle deep in my stomach and toil there along with my anger.

These people will receive no more aid from me ever again after this.

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 51

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Sivantic.

…

I was ushered into the palace through a maze of halls from a landing area hidden within a wing of vast structure. Through the halls, I spied servants quietly doing their duties. Their clothes were fresh and clean, as were they. Unlike in the cities, where only rulers had access for water for bathing, here the servants were clean as well.

They bowed at the princess, but did not acknowledge myself or anyone else in their retinue, as we stalked the halls and reached a door.

No.

A gate.

A gate befitting that of a final fortress of some grand empire. It was a gate befitting the arc of triumph in Paris. Many stern faces were imprinted upon it, stern and imposing, as if staring down any who dared enter. Lesser doors lined the sides of the hall that led to the gate, and there were arrow slits in the walls, and spying inside them I saw glimpses of armor and movement. However, no one came to great us, and there were no keepers at the gate.

I understood why, as the princess reached its foot.

The many mouths of the dozens of faces on the immense gate opened and spoke as one.

In a language that I did not know.

It was a cacophony of noise, and I was sure that it could grow louder. Any who approached the gate would be beset by horrendous noise and tremendous wind, while assaulted from the flanks by arrows and heavily armored men suited to withstand and fight in the noise. I would not be surprised if they deafened the guards who would fight in this long hall, or somehow removed the harm this noise would be upon them.

The voices stopped for a moment, and the princess replied to them in the same language.

It sounded nothing like the language used by the people of the forest. The words were more… musical and long. The only word that I recognized was her name.

Only after her statement did the doors open of their own volition, and a guard came forth from a side door to address her.

The mountain of a man, covered in armored, bowed his head and knelt when he addressed her in the same tongue.

Another castle within the castle.

This whole palace likely operated on its own language, separate from even the paradise they crafted around themselves, to ensure that they would have an eternal source of bodies to use for war.

I had to force myself to follow her, as every step towards helping these people felt wrong.

Past those gates, I was briefly blinding by light, and when my eyes managed to acclimate, I found the reason why.

We were at the foot of a great root within the palace.

Around that great root there were dozens of individuals seated on aglow circles of symbols.  Everyone was surrounded by five others, servants with water and towels and food at the ready, as well as bed pans. The need to provide the tree with power found in the people of this world, regardless of personal need, comfort, and even privacy. Each and every single individual that we passed was deep in meditation, their eyes closed and their brows awash with sweat, and they were given water and some sort of thick soup to drink.

For the first time, I saw an inkling of care and compassion from these people towards others.

This was undoubtably a form of sacrifice.

I followed the princess past row after row of people, and reached the closest row to the great tree. The farther we walked, the older the subjects were, and the amount of power that they fed to the tree greater and greater.

The Princess stopped and addressed me, as we reached the largest circle, where an older gentleman sat on the ground in white robes with ten servants watching him for any sign of discomfort. He was elderly in truth, with fine white hairs, wrinkled skin, and deteriorated muscles. Once, I could see that he was a titan of a man, with his height and the width of his shoulders denoting a lifetime spent a powerful being, but time took that away.

Still, he manned one of the circles and kept bringing light upon the world.

“This is my grandfather. The former king. He provides the most power for the realm through the tree of light.” The princess, perhaps for the first time, had emotion in her voice. She looked upon the elderly man with no shortage of awe, but it was also apparent that she did not wish to see him in his current state. “To take his place and that of many of my cousins, please step into the circle. I swear on my life, on my own arcane strength, that you will be here no longer than you have promised. Shoulder this burden, and your part of the bargain shall be considered met and we will raise no hand against you.”

By all means, I did not trust her in the slightest, but her plea did seem heartfelt.

I was confident, though, that I could escape this place if needed if they were not truthful.

“Very well.” I answered simply, with Harold’s staff in hand, and walked into the circle. The pull from it was instant… but far, far below what I expected. For a moment, there root brightened intensely, until suddenly numerous glowing circles in the room ceased to do so. The white-robed individuals manning them became cognizant, spoke to one another, and the chatter of a foreign tongue filled the hall. I simply took a seat and tucked Harold’s staff by my side. I glanced at them, and found very few matched archmage’s strength. Some had levels of strength to elites warriors of the As’Kari when I left them. A scant few could compare to the Chieftains. The Princess’s grandfather… was like Kan’Is when I first laid eyes upon him. “If you have means to store power, bring them. I will fill them with excess.”

The princess didn’t appear to hear my words, her gaze looking around the whole room, and she began to address the others speaking to her. They all went to her, asking questions, and she became engrossed in speaking to them… obviously happy that she could be with her family.

Only one of them addressed me.

The man whose spot I took.

“As’Kari… no. Those tribal markings have been gouged out.” His voice was like a low rumble, and the attendants seeking to aid him were brushed aside, as he took a seat just outside the periphery of the great circle upon which I sat. I turned to him. Even with just a few moments rest, he already looked more hale and energized than before. Perhaps, the valued the regeneration of the power within more than capacity? “What is your name, Child of the Great Desert?”

“I am Will, and I have brokered an accord with your granddaughter to power this great tree of light for ten days and ten nights.” I reached into my coat and fetched a stone. This one had the exact capacity to stay afloat for a day. I filled it with power and cast it to the ground. It came afloat before me. “Once this stone rises and falls ten times in total, my task here will be done.”

The older gentleman bowed his head at my words.

“Once, I had a greater name and title, but now I am known as Elric. I am the former king of these lands. My son now rules over it all.” I wondered what I could say to such words. Could I ask him how this land was built to safeguard this one place, while all other places were nothing more than colonies ruled by those they entrusted with power? No. Silence was the better answer. I simply nodded at his words, and offered no more information. “Why have you come to our lands? What do you seek here?”

Before I could debate on what to say, the princess answered.

“Grandfather, he saved a prison ship waylaid in the desert by monsters. Thereafter, he was lulled by one of the former prisoners to go an heal their sleeping king. He stayed in these lands, after seeing what became of the people on the outskirts of our empire.” The princess spoke whilst on one knee, utterly deferring to her grandfather, whose gaze was on me. I gave a nod at her words. She was telling the whole truth of the matter so far. “He established several settlements of those we abandoned, and journeyed here after an encounter with one of our knightly households and after defeating them. In exchange for his aid, I promised ships to transport those under his protection to lands far from our own.”

She acknowledged all that her people did without a hint of regret.

“I see. The As’Kari have always had a strong sense of justice. Far more than any of the clans of the Great Desert. But I do not recall their youths being this strong.” Elric gazed upon me for a long time, before speaking again. He rubbed his chin in thought and gazed upon me with measuring eyes. I wondered what plots he was contriving in his head, before he spoke. “Will, of no tribe, you can bring more justice to this land if you swear to my family and add your blood to it. That power of yours is worth what you would demand of us.”

I did not hesitate.

“I refuse.” Of course, this former king only had his legacy in mind. He looked upon a person with immense power and sought to give them all he could to secure their loyalty and lineage. He did not see me, only what I could give, and since that was immense, he offered me inclusion into his family’s ranks. The thought of being a part of this lineage made me sick. After I pass, after my child passes, I am sure that my grandchildren will be little different from these people and they will not bat an eye as what I demanded would be undone. “After these ten days, I will collect all those who I have trained and take them beyond this place. I will never enter these lands again.”

I expected many responses. Drawn weapons, hisses of discontent, and perhaps even a denouncement and threats towards the people I sought to save. None of those things were below these people. Yet, still, I stood my ground and answered the former king without hesitation.

The response to my words was… a hearty laugh.

“Ha! Haha! I see. Of course!” Elric’s face was wide and his smile seemed genuine. I wondered if he was acting, if he aimed to lower my guard, but he shook his head and rose to his full height. “Very well, then, Will of no Tribe, consider the matter done. You are my guest, and I am the acting steward of this kingdom.”

He turned his gaze towards the princess, who had her head bowed, as she knelt before him in fealty.

“Well done. You’ve secured great power for us, while getting rid of possible belligerents through use of resources we have in abundance.” Elric spoke frankly, and waved his hand in an upward fashion. The princess stood up, and I became aware that many eyes were upon her. More than a few looked at her in envy. Few looked at her with awe and respect. I had a sinking feeling that this place was not united and that I was in a den of snakes. “I will see you entitled for your actions, Lassandra. Your actions today have all but ensured our future.”

“Thank you, honored grandfather.” Lassandra bowed her head whilst standing. A fate smile played on her lips. However, a frown followed shortly after. “Grandfather, should you not attend to court?”

“Call upon the court, and I shall there. For now, you are all dismissed. I would speak to this child of the Great Desert alone.” Elric’s words brokered no argument, and all present congregated. Some servants stayed, but he made no notice of them, even as they began to wordlessly set a table and chair for him. Their faces were covered with veils and their figures obscured completely in white robes. I had to wonder how they could see, while they moved to serve the elderly titan of a man. He only addressed me once the immense room was emptied. “You are fortunate, child, that I raised my son well. If I were in his place, I would force you to remain, as I am my father’s son.”

He moved to the table and a meal was brought from a cart. I wondered from where the servants came, until I noticed that there were imprints on the floor. Service tunnels led into the chamber. They couldn’t all enter through the immense gates that I had.

The older man seemed to wish to speak to me… and my curiosity was getting the better of me, so I spoke.

“You mean to imply that your nation has grown kinder and more compassionate with time? That all the works I witnessed from the periphery to here were the work of your forebears?”

“Aye, I do. Any scholar of the Great Desert would see it plainly, how my lineage treated the rest of the nation. We stand at the center, reaping all the harvests, while all others comply and do as we bid.” He was served and immense meal of some whole roasted bird, full barrels of water, and bushels of cleaned vegetables. He set upon the meal with his bare hands, while a servant stood by with a bowl and towels ready for him to cleanse himself of detritus. “This place was built on strength and its retention. All others outside these lands are conquests to not be trusted, so was the will of our ancestors who ventured forth and subjugated them.”

They didn’t treat the lives of those beyond these walls as citizenry.

They considered them as people to exploit and only that.

It was the final, sickening piece of the puzzle that made this nation made sense.

“I see… do you believe that telling me this will convince me that your people can change?”

He shook his head.

“No, I’m telling you this because I am to explain how the current threat came to be. The creatures we now fight… they were born of our own efforts to rule over monsters.”

My heart skipped a beat at the admission, and I stared at him for any sign of duplicity, and found not a single mote.

Innumerable questions came to mind, but I settled on one for now.

“How?”

Perhaps, if I knew how they did it, there was a method to unmake these creatures that I have not yet found.

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 52

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Sivantic.

…

Interlude: Gale

…

I returned to the city ruled by Lucien only to be surprised.

Erucic was present, as was Hash’Im and Averi, and our whole town was present in a settlement of tents surrounded by flying ships.

Lord Lucien was speaking to Hash’Im and noticed my arrived.

“Gale. I see that you’ve arrived ahead of Lady Djet’Is.” After working with the rebels in the north, I couldn’t muster the same dislike for the man I once did. Just glancing around his lands showcased his dedication to the protection of his people here. Meanwhile, the rebels had resisted every measure I offered them for their protection. Thinking about them easily made me tired. “Sir Erucic, I’ll return tomorrow with more supplies. I believe that you have much to tell her.”

“Aye, City Lord, I do. You have my thanks for your generosity.” Erucic gave the man a bow and looked my way. He seemed taller and larger than I last saw him, and much of his armor was new, along with his blade. I nearly thought that he betrayed us and surrendered our people to the kingdom, but if such were the case, Hash’Im would not be present. Such a betrayal would’ve had the As’Kari refuse to trade with us. “Gale… that bad?”

I nodded and sighed.

Of course, he’d know that I went north to see the rebellion there.

“They only have vengeance and violence in mind. They barely paid heed when I tried to tell them how to find and kill the monsters. Their people live from day to day in hunger, yet they march off their soldiers to war.” The people who I thought would fight against the kingdom for their wrongdoings were simply people who wanted to rule their own nation. There was no justice sought. Only old claims brought to the forefront and renewed. Clans and bloodlines quibbling over who had the right over to which region and bereft of unity. “There’s nothing there. All they’ve done is erupt after the kingdom showed their hand.”

My hoped were dashed for some grand rebellion to take across all the land and make the crown pay for what they did.

But I felt something in my chest, as I looked upon the ships and our people.

I recognized many of them from the outlying settlements that we brought to work with us.

“Is everyone here? Why?”

“Will has contacted the crown. He would work with them and offer them his power for ten days and night, and in exchange they would give your people the means to move to lands beyond their reach.” Erucic explained and gestured at the grand assembly. The large ships with their crews were bringing aboard supplies from wagons near incessantly. “We make our way southeast to the great frontier that borders that Great Desert.”

“It is a land with many monsters good for hunting. Great flying lizards with two legs, whose hides make for fine armor and flesh that empowers warriors. The As’Kari will trade handsomely for such prizes, and if you all manage to find and make steel, all the better.” Hash’Im spoke fondly of the decision, while Averi and Erucic winced. The older warrior of the As’Kari took note but shook his head. “I have heard that many of your peoples tried to settle those lands before and failed, but fret not. The people here have all feasted upon strong flesh and have trained. With strong spears and good training, you will be able to stand tall where others fell.”

Erucic grunted at those words.

“It’s a dangerous place, but no one claims it. We’re keeping most of the ships, save for one that’ll return all the crews back. At least, those who want to return. It’s a place where we’ll be free to make our own lives.” I walked towards the camp and the trio followed. Somehow, I felt as though I were a leader. It felt strange, like I should be following my teacher with them instead. “The kingdom won’t have any designs on the place for centuries, either.”

Averi spoke with a soft voice.

I didn’t even recall the last time I saw the knight, but she was fully clad in armor and her helm was by her side. The Knight of the Crown walked amongst people she was sent to conquer and seemed to shrink under their suspicious gazes. Her blood red eyes were hesitant and I could tell that she was afraid.

Why wouldn’t she?

So many of the villages were now strong, and just a handful of them would be able to bring her low.

“The Crown is paying restitution in full. All these supplies and ships, save one, are yours. We have gathered craftsmen and other skilled laborers who wish to leave and sent them here.” There were a few unfamiliar faces amongst the people, as we passed by. Young men and young women who seemed afraid. I wondered idly if any of them were spies of the Crown. “There will be enough dry goods and supplies for your people for eight seasons.”

Some part of me cried out at those words.

My father and the death of my village for eight seasons of food and supplies and some ships?

The life that I once had was gone forever and destroyed by the actions of these people.

I wanted to refuse them.

If I were alone, I would.

But I was not.

More than a thousand people were here, and they were going to be saved.

“Have you asked the people here how they feel on the matter?” I asked Erucic simply, and the veteran knight nodded at my words.

“We placed it carefully and took marks from all. About a fifth wished to refuse. The rest accepted. Some slinked away in the night and left with their families.” Erucic recounted the matter truthfully, as we reached the most central tent of the place. It was a large, circular design and there were lean-tos erected around it. People were cooking, repairing items, and being productive around it. I caught the sight of smoked fish and couldn’t help but smile. The fishing village we fortified seemed so far away now. Almost unreal. “There were complaints, but when the ships came and the promise began to be fulfilled, there were less qualms… especially when we passed over other lands.”

“They’re gone, aren’t they?” We survived thanks to my teacher and his strength. He carved a path for us when we were left behind. He taught us how to hunt, eat, and train from the spoils of battle. The rebels in the north had the traditions and kept them, allowing them to survive, but the other lands like our own did not. “Were there any there that we could’ve saved?”

“We took on as many as we could, but they were few. Mostly hunters or warriors. Some had… ulterior motives, but my knights are strong now. We can keep things in line.” Erucic shifted the cloth into the tent. Inside were familiar faces. The other knights that came with him, along with a few others. They were all clad in new armor and weapons, and looked stronger than we first met. They reminded me of the As’Kari warriors now. “I’m confident that we can protect the people in our new lands.”

Again, that nagging voice crept up within me.

Were we truly to just leave and abandon our homes, while accepting this as an apology?

Taking money and assets in exchange for the people and homes that we lost?

A bitter taste crept up my throat, but there was something in the air that I couldn’t deny.

Hope was apparent in every person’s eyes when I passed them by.

When I last saw them, they looked upon us and worried for their safety. They thought only of the next day or the next week, if there was going to be protectors and if there was going to be food and shelter. The children were quiet and helped their parents work, always wary of strangers, and almost always fearful of anyone in armor. The knights were all haggard, tired, and held together by their belief in their own righteousness and their code of honor. Erucic had stood tall, but his brow was always furrowed, thinking of more battles to come and the needs of all.

The children had been playing in the camp, watched over by the older generation, while the adults worked and helped prepare the ships. Some children were in tents and being taught how to read, or how to make simple crafts. The older children were putting rope together and listening with intent on their tasks on new ships. The various guards and knights were calmer and less pain filled their faces.

A future lay ahead of them.

Ahead of me.

Father? What would want me to do here?

I asked that question to myself, but I already knew the answer.

He would wish for me to move forward and not risk my life.

To use my head, instead of falling to the anger within my heart.

I swallowed the bitter bile threatening to rise up my throat, and simply addressed Erucic.

“I see. Tell me how I can help.” I did not look at their faces. Whether they were astonished or shocked by my words, by my letting go of my hatred, I did not wish to know. It was hard enough to ignore. A voice within me clamored for me to refuse the new opportunity, to rail and scream at the unfairness of it all, but I clamped it shut. If I were to do anything against the kingdom, against the Crown, then I would have to do on my own and not involve these people. Perhaps, after I see them safe, I will make a journey back and find some semblance of vengeance… but I shall not bring others to suffer the same fate. If I desire vengeance, then I will do it alone, after I see what remains of my people to safety. “I’ll need to rest for a bit, but thereafter, I can take on some of my teacher’s duties until he returns to us.”

Maybe, the anger burning within me now will abate in a few years.

Perhaps, it shall not.

But until that time, I shall save who can first, before seeking out retribution.

I will not be like the rebels I tried to help in the north.

…

Days passed and Lucien returned to our camp with Djet’Is in tow.

When we last met, I recalled disliking her immensely for her decision to try and ally with the Crown for the sake of her tribe’s victory in the Great Desert.

Now, when we meet again, my teacher has struck a bargain with the Crown and granted us assets that will see us taken away.

“The chieftain of the city informed me of Will’s actions. It’s good. You leave the lands of those who harmed you for mountains that will forge your people into a stronger nation. In a few generations, this kingdom will fall to you.” Lucien turned to Djet’Is in alarm, while her gaze was set upon me. I shook my head at her words. “Oh? You have no intentions of leading your people to right wrongs?”

“The people here want nothing to do with the Crown. Now and in the future. That is what will happen. As for myself… maybe in the far future when everyone is safe, I’ll return here with grievances.” For a moment, Djet’Is stared at me, before a snort left her nose and she smiled and extended her arm my way. As Will taught me, I took hold of her forearm, just before her elbow, and gripped tight. This was an acknowledgement between two warriors, according to my teacher. “I thought that you’d think I were craven.”

“No. You’ve placed your tribe above yourself. It is the true test of a warrior. One that Will has failed many times.” Djet’Is sighed and looked upon the mass of tents. She spotted where the As’Kari set up their trading post. I wondered why she simply didn’t follow the constant stream of people coming and going from the there and went to the city. Did she have something to do in there? No. I cut those thoughts away. If the As’Kari wished to trade with the Crown, after all that they’ve done and their displays of caring only for the safety and security of a select few, that is there decision. “Then again, he has never been a warrior. Never been one who puts the tribe above all else. His duty has always been towards the people.”

I wouldn’t have understood her words before our paths separated, but now I did.

“I don’t think I can ever hope to stand on his path.” He stood alone, solitary, and indomitable. He is amenable and he changes, always seeking the best course for those he is caring for. A physician’s duty, he told me, is to see to the health and wellbeing of others. He stood by that ideal, even when he had to leave his tribe for its decision to go to war. “I don’t think anyone can, besides him.”

The thought of doing such a thing frightened me. He was alone out there. Even if I were as strong as him, I could no imagine never having a home, never having others to rely upon, and to adhere to such ideals. However, I could emulate him. I could try and reach lesser heights by training to reach him. Here and now, as someone who can help other people, but still believe that I deserved vengeance in the future… I can be myself.

I thought that Djet’Is would disparage him, but her teeth grit and she took a steadying breath, before speaking.

Something that my teacher did many times to calm himself and control his emotions.

I didn’t know if either of them noticed that they emulated one another.

“The As’Kari have been long interested in the mountain lands adjacent to the Great Desert. I believe you already know that we have keen interest in the monsters there for all that they offer. We will trade with you and offer you assistance, as you grow strong enough to stand there without our aid.” Djet’Is did as he did and changed the topic by moving onto something else of greater import. Like him, she fled to regather herself if she needed time to think and plan. “I’m sure that he’ll spend a few years with your people, until moving ahead again. You will need to be ready to replace him when that time comes, either with yourself or someone who can be trusted, if you choose the path to assuage your grievances.”

I nodded at her words, as a helpless thought flickered through my mind.

Will she continue to trail after him then?

Planting As’Kari outposts in her path all the while?

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 81

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 81

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

…

“Designation: Egress.”

“I’m taking time off. I need it.” I was still at Vancouver checking the city out. I was taking a walk and looking for a brunch place to enjoy after my coffee and pastry. There was a good lox sandwich place here in this city, I was sure, so I was walking close to the wharfs. There weren’t many big ships, but loads of smaller ones that pulled in lots of fish from the Pacific Northwest’s shores. With this much amazing salmon, there should be a good place with lox. Probably not a good bagel, but I’ll take what I can get. “If you’re here to get me to work, you’re out of luck.”

I still had my timetables for shipping stuff around the world, but they were already set up early in the morning after I woke up. I just hopped over to the places, got stuff from point A to point B, and fulfilled my duties for the day. It took more time to bathe, get dressed, and check on my armor’s seals, but after that I just had my whole day to myself.

“I understand. I am here in hopes of accompanying you. Your actions yesterday immensely improved your reputation amongst Vancouver’s population.” I looked over the body chosen by Parvati for this escapade. Hazer haired with pale skin and fair features, she obviously looked like most women in the city, but with a few notches upward in attractiveness. “I hope to increase my reputation as well.”

“Yeah, no. That’s work. Go socialize and schmooze on your own. You can just visit all the places I did yesterday and get good results. Tell them I told you they’re good, or something.” I’m on the hunt for food and to not think. Working to improve Parvati’s reputation around here involved thinking. Heck, it might interfere with my enjoyment of my food. “Go away. Shoo. If you want to improve your reputation, hire me to chauffeur you around the city for a food tour or something in a week.”

“Designation: Egress, please don’t tell me that’s what you’d use your power for, if the world were stable and secure.”

“Your goddamn right that’s what I’d use it for, if the world wasn’t crazy.” I’d call it Egress’s Exotics Food Tour. I’d just chaperone people around the world to eat for eight hours. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and multiple snacks across the day. I make a killing just taking around groups of ten for like three hundred bucks all over the world for food. I couldn’t because most people with power would try to kidnap me if I was that overt with my powers. Oh, and tourism ate shit when superhuman crime just blossomed all over the world. “Now, how about you beat it? I’m here to have a nice, calming day.”

A frown flittered across the gynoid form used by Parvati, but it remained silent as I reached a promising spot.

It was a hole in the wall, a container building nestled on the road in between docks and warehouses. There was a line of workers leading to the stand, and people were munching on sandwiches with one hand with coffee in the other in the morning. I took in the scent. Slightly dark roast, but fresh from a local roaster. Besides that, the scent of frying eggs was in the air, along with toasting bread and the sea breeze.

Even if they didn’t have what I wanted, this was still going to be worth having.

I got in line, receiving a few stares, until I spoke.

“New around these parts. Do they have lox? I’ve been looking for years.”

My question quickly got an answer from the guy in front of me in line.

“If they’ve got lox? Buddy, lox is the cheapest thing on the menu. It’s practically all we ate for years! Why’re you going around looking for it?”

“From California. Docks there are warmwater and still messed up. We won’t have any for a long while.” Maybe, some northern California town had them, but I couldn’t be everywhere or check everywhere out. It’d be too much of a hassle. “If they’ve got it on the menu, it must be good, since you’ve all eaten it so much, right?”

“Hm, yeah. I suppose. Hey, were you the masked guy that showed up at the shrimp noodle place yesterday? Ordered a bowl, gave Mr. Wu some stuff from China, and came back to buy another bowl?”

“Yeah, I almost got a third.”

“Damn, it must be nice to have powers… I’d eat two bowls of noodles, too!” The worker guffawed and gave me a nod, before extending his hand towards me. I took it and gave a shake. “James Catlins, nice to meet you. How’re you liking the city?”

“There are somethings that take getting used to. But that’s the case for every city. Egress. Sorry, I make sure people don’t know who I am, just in case.”

“The height might give you away, boss.” James chuckled and looked past me for a second, then went back to looking at me. “The woman behind you’s glaring daggers into the back of your head. What’d ya do?”

“We’re co-workers and I don’t want to work today.”

“Ah, damn.”

“Designation: Egress, would you like to introduce me to your new acquaintance?”

“There are literally dozens of people around here you can chat up, Parvati. Chat them up.” I got a huff from the AI piloting a gynoid body, and I felt its presence stalk away. James looked a bit shaken… or maybe he was staring at the gynoid’s rear while it walked towards some dudes trying to look cool and not interested at its approach. “Honest advice: that’s an AI that pilots thousands of gynoid bodies designed to infiltrate and get into people’s good graces. If it fucks you, it wants something.”

“She’ll be popular around here then. Bit hard for folks like us to afford the mods to look good.” James shook his head and sighed. Guess there was a caveat to the whole biological revolution going on here. People were healthy and taken care of, but anything past general health and wellness still took a pretty penny. I mean, it gave people something to work towards. It wasn’t like people needed to spend money on homes or cars here. The luxury goal was to invest in oneself and look ridiculously attractive. “So, you’re going to get some lox? I think number three’s the best. Classic. Cream cheese, original bagel, capers, onions, and lots smoked salmon.”

“Yeah, that sounds like what I’m looking for.” We were at the front of the line now, and I realized my mistake before I could act against it. “Wait—

“Hey, Cathy. One number three for my friend Egress here and one number two for me!” James gave me a big grin, while I just shook my head. However, before he could say no, I went ahead and got something out for him and pushed it into his hands. “Hey, what the—boss, this is way too much for a sandwich!”

I put a solid gold coin in his hands.

“Consider it a donation, so you can get that face of your fixed.” I talked loud enough to be overheard. A few people laughed, but there were still some sharp eyes. Needed to nail it in a bit harder. I put a pager in his hand. I made it obvious that he was employed under me.  “Consider it an investment. I need contacts, and you need to look good. Win-win.”

“Bastard, fine.” James nodded a bit stiffly, before turning around and paying the cashier, and motioning for me to follow him. I did and we got to an empty spot closer to the window where food got handed out. Parvati was well on its way to getting the denizens of the wharf wrapped around its finger. Only time will tell if the easy lay route will give it the reputation that it wants here, like it did back with Clancy. “It’d help if you told me what you’re looking for.”

“Anything that can be stored up and shipped around and sold. Nothing crazy like weapons. I mostly just ship around food, so people’s diets aren’t ridiculously plain.” That got James nodding along and he took of his hardhat. Damn, balding already. There was also some wear and wrinkles on his otherwise youthful face. Beneath the skin, he was probably healthy, but hard labor still wore on the looks a lot. “Lots of grains and vegetables all over the US. Cattle herds are massive. Steaks are easy to get. Less so everywhere else, but they’ve got spices, different grains, and all that stuff.”

“Steaks? Damn, I just read about those. Never had the chance to try, even before things went sideways.” James shook his head. I did my best to not look at him and guess his age. He noticed. “I’m twenty seven. Balding’s a bitch.”

“…Damn, Seran’s ruthless. Balding should be a mental health fix.”

“I know, right!?” James scoffed, but looked my way. “So, you know the mayor?”

“Used to work with her before the war. Mostly delivering stuff from all over the world to her lab. Honestly? Didn’t think she was cut out for a public facing job, but it looks like she’s improved since then.” I was a bit worried talking about Seran. What if this guy had some hangups? What if Seran’s situation pre-apocalypse was known, somehow? I didn’t need to worry, James pretty much just nodded along seriously at my words, obviously pleased that I praised his city’s mayor. “Can’t tell you the details on what we’re doing now, but I can tell you that if we don’t, there’s a lot of pain involved for everyone.”

“Probably something about the fascists on the east coast and the monarchists in the middle, huh?” James asked and my silence probably confirmed it. He almost immediately took out the coin I gave him. “If you’re really working against those bastards, I don’t need—

I refused it firmly and pushed it back towards him.

“I’m already getting paid for that. This is all me. I do this to pass the time, get some money, and spread food around. Everything else? I do for my peace of mind… and money.” Perfect strangers are a lot easier to talk to than people that I knew. Man, I really need an actual therapist. There’s a lot to unpack from that, especially since I was comfortable sharing it with a complete stranger. Vancouver probably has a few. “And, on some days, I just take off and find some good food to eat.”

James looked at a loss for a moment, but he eventually just nodded and accepted my payment.

We were quiet for a bit.

Then, he spoke again.

“So, you looking to get with the mayor?”

“She’s on the same team as us, buddy.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“…Damn.” James looked at me suspiciously. I just stared blankly down at him. I wondered what he’d think, if I told him about who Seran used to be. No, better yet, how the idiot was endangering the whole planet by making her perfect villainess princess in Vancouver’s top secret laboratory. Would he doubt me, if such were the case? “Hey, you said that the AI with you has a lot of different bodies, right? How are they—

“As a rule, I don’t let myself get physically manipulated by AI. You can probably just ask, though.” I cut the dude off. I mean, I’ve thought about it. Parvati would drown me in bodies if I did. The AI can just endlessly generate gynoids to anyone’s specifications. Having Parvati make Seran’s fantasy lady would’ve been a lot safer than what she was doing now, but that artificial lifeform was already alive, so that route was out. Anyway, I gave the dude my advice. “You’re probably not going to get anywhere, since Parvati just goes after people with influence and power, but you can shoot your shot. Honestly, maybe you can talk it into setting up a pleasure house or something.”

“That’d be great. We’re getting our wallets bled out going to the red district. I mean, everything’s great and clean there, but it’s still expensive.” James complained cheerily. I just had to roll my eyes. So, he was lacking in funds and couldn’t land a lady because he couldn’t change himself up, but he was still spending loads of cash on ladies of the night? No matter where I go, bachelors never change. He reminded me of myself at his age, before the first murder attempts, kidnapping attempts, and STD scares. “Think we can talk her into setting up something her, so that she can have an in at the ports?”

“Talk to it yourself, dude. We’re coworkers. Allies at best.” I shook my head, and James’ name was called out. I got my sandwich. It was a hefty thing, and upon opening it, I found a lightly toasted bagel, a solid layer of cream cheese, almost a full inch of lox piled up in thin slices, and then a layer of crusher capers and onions shmeared on the underside of the top half of the sandwich. Everything was wrapped up in simple butcher paper. “Go with my blessings, I’m going to devour this.”

With that, I left Vancouver and sat straight down at the first safehouse location that came to mind, and got my helmet off after flicking on a music player to some light jazz to enjoy a dusky, purplish sunset.

I opened one half, took a bite, and almost groaned in satisfaction. The cream cheese was whipped, so it was creamy but not cloying, and had that faint cheesy tang to accentuate the strong cream flavor. The flavor of the salmon was still there, but there wasn’t a hint of fishiness. It was salmon, but with a soft texture slightly tougher than sashimi, and imbued with smokiness. Fatty, smoky, and intensely flavorful combined with creamy and tangy. The warm bagel was almost a relief, and the capers and onions provided brininess, bitterness, and acidic sharpness that brought everything together. If it were just bagel, cream cheese, and lox, I’d have gotten tired… but the seemingly-thin layer of onions and schmear of crushed capers kept me at the sandwich until I was finished with the first half.

It made me want a tall glass of orange juice, so I reached into my fridge and gut a cup, and chugged it down.

The faint taste of onion remained a little, after the orange juice, but the tanginess and sweetness drove away the taste of cream cheese and salmon… allowing me to dive into the next half with gusto.

Damn.

I’m really going to buy a second one, aren’t I?

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 80

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 80

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

…

Vancouver surprisingly had an actual coffee roaster and café. I’d originally planned on getting tons of fresh beans and to make fresh roasts in my bunker, but my attempts at smaller batches always ended up not tasting very good. If the apocalypse occurred a few more months later than it did, I’d probably have gotten the hang of it, and have a few bushels of unroasted coffee beans at the bunker in cold storage. Unfortunately, the kickoff happened, and I had to make do with stashes of instant coffee made by really good roasters and the more decent batches of instant.

I went through most of my stash a while ago, so I was looking forward to getting some at the café.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t pretend to just be a normal person, since their was surveillance everywhere, and the community was pretty tight lipped.

So, I walked into the café covered up in camo, wearing a mask, and armored up.

Like a freaking weirdo.

“G-good morning. How can I help you today?” The young woman acting as cashier stuttered. I mean, in front of her was a looming figure with no outward features that can be used to discern who they were. Most of the other customers present were already looking at the police in the same café, wondering if the police should do something, and it was obvious they were thinking the same. If I didn’t handle this carefully, I’ll have a diplomatic incident on my hands. “Sir?”

“The daily special roast. Drip. Hot. And, a croissant.” I gave the order I wanted while I was in line, and provided the lines I practiced in my head. “My name is Egress.”

The young woman at the teller balked for a moment, then realized I was ordering just like a regular customer despite my getup… and fell back to routine.

“One daily roast drip coffee for Mr. Egres and a croissant. Would you like for us to warm that up for you?”

“No. Thank you. I’ll take everything to go.” It wasn’t like I was going to sit around here and eat it. I’ll be zipping over to a safe house and enjoying the view of the sunset in the tropics across the world. I liked drinking coffee while watching the sunrise and sunset, depending on my mood. I could just go watch whichever I wanted. “That is all.”

“Your total is five dollars.” Five dollars for a roaster’s coffee and a croissant? What a great deal. If either are just decent, I’ll come back here. Especially since there wasn’t a tip jar, and the taxes are factored in already. I really hoped that this payout system will come to America after we’ve put it back together. “Your drip coffee will take a few minutes. Please wait at a table until we call you name.”

“Understood.” I paid for my little breakfast and stood aside to wait close to the counter where the coffee and pastry would be given out. The police and everyone else in the café… seemed to just relax after I paid. I guess that they were worried that I was going to commit a crime or something. “I’ll wait here.”

With that I withdrew, and just enjoyed the regular ambiance of the place.

It was a post-modern little café, but one that encouraged people to stick around.

Most cafes that I went to before the bombs fell took the opportunity to be sleek and modern and got shitty chairs and tables that were just hard to work at. Sure, brick and mortar look great with metal finish furniture, but they’re not great to sit on. Hell, those plastic chairs you can just stack atop each other and store are better to sit on. Not only that, but most tables were spindly and rocked around, and maybe even had edges that were nearly too sharp to rest your wrists against.

This post-apocalypse café hit the sweet spot. They kept the sleek bar with the nice clear glass cases for pastries, and all stainless steel and clean behind the counter. However, the place where the customers actually stayed at had nice wooden tables and sturdy wooden chairs with actual armrests. There was even a bookshelf sponsored by the local library. The tables had some flowers in vases, just to give the place a nice hint of color, while the air was filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baking pastries. The best part was that the atmosphere kept the people quiet, too. The people here barely talking above a murmur.

I haven’t even eaten yet, and I already liked the place.

Man, if I could get away with it, I’d just take up one of the darker nooks, and stick around for an afternoon reading a book or something.

It’s like the best place to be alone.

“Uh… Egress?”

“That’s me.”

“Oh, yep. Figures.” The young woman who made the coffee and bagged my pastry gave a nod and looked at me for a while. I could feel the gears spinning. I made the decision to leave right then and there. No small talk for this guy. “Uh—

“Good day.” With that, I walked out of the building, and the moment I crossed the door went over across the world.

Half the sky was starting to fill with stars, while near-purple rays of the sun setting in the distance streaked across the other half of the sky. There was a breeze in the air, a cool tropical breeze, and the scent of the ocean drifted with it. I fetched one of my tables, got a seat, sat, and just settled in for a nice sunset with some good coffee and a croissant.

The daily roast was apparently a South American variety, raised in one of Vancouver’s skyscrapers turned into vertical farms. Inside the converted buildings, temperature, climate, and soul conditions were all replicated carefully to grow coffee beans to exacting standards. I’d planned on going over to South America to see how the plantations were going, but Vancouver looked like it was going to be my best bet.

Opening the coffee cup, I poured its contents into an actual mug, and took it in. There was a subtle viscosity to the coffee, just slightly above water, that denoted that the extraction was good and all the oils and compounds in the roasted coffee were there. A faint film was left by the liquid on the disposable cup that I was given, and I was sure that if I let it dry the scent of coffee would cling to it for days. The scent of the coffee from the mug was initially just the familiar notes of coffee, but with a bit more focus, I picked up hints of honey, chocolate, and orange. A common coffee taste range for roasters to offer as a daily special for people just getting into coffee.

A gave the mug a sip, and gave a sigh of relief.

It was a bit over-roasted and bitter. Closer to a dark roast than a medium, so that the citrus scent was barely present as a flavor and the honey was closer to a dark caramel in sweetness. The chocolate flavor was in full force. Yeah, this is was coffee that the roaster expected to have sugar and milk get added to by normal customers. I should’ve gone for one of their specials… but this was a good start for a normal person. It meant that they knew that they were doing.

I was very tempted to go back and get another cup, but after years of very little coffee, two cups will be uncomfortable.

I went on to the croissant.

It could’ve been garbage, and I wouldn’t have minded, but it was good. Breaking it apart gave me a fluffy, airy, and white interior made from properly made croissant dough. When factories churned the stuff out, they barely let the dough rest, so the insides never got airy and were just basically layers of dough cooked by butter, never joining together and making a chewy, buttery, airy inside. The outside was a nice golden color with a good crunch. They weren’t taking any shortcuts thanks to having a toaster oven on standby. A good croissant, freshly made, shouldn’t need to be reheated the day it’s made. The shell will be slightly brittle and crunchy at least for a couple hours after cooling off.

Overall, I found a great place to spend my mornings.

Three days a week, and alternating between every other day and two days in between each visit.

Just to make sure people don’t figure out a pattern to use against me.

…

For dinner, Vancouver had a lot to offer.

The city’s markets had fish and chicken, but there were a few stalls that sold beef and pork. However, their focus was shrimp.

There were facilities inside the city designed to grow shrimp in large warehouses. Shrimp apparently only took three months to raise in their farms, and they grew to the size of a palm, and weren’t picky with what they ate. Not nearly as effective as bugs when it came to producing protein, but they grew quickly, were tasty, and their shells could be ground up for both stock and fertilizer.

I never had seafood until my second decade, and by then cooked seafood was exotic to me, and sushi was outright bizarre. Thankfully, I made friends with people, and I never turned down free food, so I eventually tried it. I liked it, and from then on, I’ve been on the hunt for most foodstuffs and not just what I knew.

Never thought that I’d be having a bowl of egg-noodles in a shrimp broth, though.

“How do you make it so orange?” I was in front of a stall. Loads of people walking by were staring at me. However, the stall owner barely blinked when I came by. Harold Wu came from overseas before trade and transit across the Pacific basically shut down. Thus, he was in his fifties and nearing sixty. Still, though, he was manning a noodle stall that had multiple plastic tables and chairs surrounding it in a busy market… and they were all full of people eating.  Pretty much the signal for me to pick it for my dinner. Locals sitting around and crowding on tiny plastic chairs and tables around a noodle store? Basically, as good as a certain tire company’s recommendation. “You add tomatoes?”

“No. No tomatoes. Ground up shrimp heads. All the good stuff.” Harold was enthusiastic to discuss things, after I proved that I was a bit discerning when it came to noodles. Going around SEA pretty much made me a connoisseur of the stuff. I preferred Pho the most, with plenty offal and gamier pieces of meat, along with fishballs. With all the sauces and herbs that came along with the bowl, you can pretty much tailor your meal so that every bite is different from the next with only the broth and rice noodles as the common denominator. “French technique for shrimp bisque, but I add no oil, cream, or crushed up stale bread to thicken. Only shrimp head, shrimp innards, and then vegetable stock, then strain.”

“Take a long time?”

“No, no. Shrimp broth taste no good after too long pf boil. Too delicate. Needs to be very fresh. Reheating is no good. Big pot always kept warm.” Harold shook his head and explained. It must’ve been strange to look at. A looming figure in a camo cloak just talking with a noodle stall’s owner. “When cool, taste fades too. Need to eat quickly. Less than ten minute for best flavor.”

Some people say that they eat the food that they pay for how they want.

They’re idiots, if the chef has a recommended way of eating it.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Hm. Here’s a tip. I’ve been to China recently.” I reached into my cloak, but in truth put my hand into my storehouse for the stuff from China. I grabbed a tall, clay jar full of soy sauce, tucked it under my shoulder, and got some chili oil. Both were pretty prized wherever I decided to sell them. This guy, though, would probably appreciate the last jar I got the most. Fish sauce. I placed them gingerly on the counter and his eyes practically popped out of his eyes when I opened the lids. “I work everywhere. We can work out a deal for—

“Yes. Any deal. I can make real restaurant with this!” Harold’s eyes were bright and he practically seized all three jars. In a burst of Mandarin, he addressed one of his kids helping at the stall. “Bring this home now and cook fresh rice! Tell your mother to get some pork!”

“Stir fry pork and fried rice?” I asked him in Mandarin, and he just looked at me with a grin.

“Yes. It’s been too long. Thank you very much, sir!” His Mandarin was a lot better than mine and he gave me nod of thanks. “I’ll have your meal ready in a moment!”

“I’ll be right here.”

I got my meal in a few moments, without a sign of anything extra on the top.

You’d think that would show him off as someone stingy… and you’d be right.

Who’d want a business partner that gives extra to anyone who treats him nicely? This was just the perfect sign that I picked the right dude to work with to get my stock from China over here in Vancouver.

The meal itself was fantastic, and I ate it at another hideout.

The egg noodles were fresh and boiled in just under five minutes, then covered in the deep orange soup stock made from vegetables and shrimp. The shrimp flavor was the most prominent, practically every bite bursting with the familiar briny flavor. The stock was aromatic with the faint scent and taste of onion, ginger, and carrots, but besides that there was nothing else to detract from the taste of the shrimp broth. It was so intensely flavored that I could barely taste the difference between taking a bite of actual shrimp and slurping up the soup. The only toppings on the meal were some peeled and boiled shrimps, some green onions, and fish cakes.

No crunchy garlic, slices of pork, or even bean sprouts.

Anything that would get in the way of the shrimp flavor was removed from the equation.

By the end of it, I drank the rest of the broth after finishing off the noodles, the fish cake, and shrimp toppings.

Then, I went back and ordered another bowl.

Yeah.

I think I’m about to support the first post-apocalyptic franchise.

V9: Chapter 4

V9: Chapter 4

…

Supersoldiers.

Everyone wants them.

Everyone needs them.

Now, supersoldiers aren’t really a thing in most high fantasy settings. Their writers tend to shy away from the nitty gritty details to preserve some mystique. In low fantasy settings, your supersoldiers have just been trained from birth or are fuck-off huge for some reason, and you’re good to go. High fantasy, there’s a need to explain how you’re taking a regular, average human being and enabling them to fight against armies of giant monsters.

Thankfully, my current reality is actually a sci-fi setting disguised as a high fantasy setting.

Meaning that the lore and creation process to uplifiting stock humans from Tier 0 to Tier 3 is something that I knew from the start thanks to wiki-dives and the in-game encyclopedia.

I’ll leave the long, comprehensive explanation to lore videos.

The short of it is that the Ancients have already done most of the work with most of the improvements and changes that people need are just lying dormant in their bodies. Back when they were in power, if someone needed all those improvements turned on for their job or something valid, they go to a clinic, get some injections, and get put into a chamber that provides them with energy for the transformation. Obviously, just like a certain superhero with a star-emblemed shield. When everything’s over and done with, they go to a clinic, get the genes turned off, and the extra mass and improvements fade over time.

Part of the reason why the Ancients managed to push through and gut their enemies after the initial sucker punches was thanks to this fact.

It’s hard to conquer a planet full of people that can bench press sedans and run at fifty miles per hour for hours on end.

Anyway, the increased health, defense, attack, and other stats of normal mortal people over time is explained by uncovering these methods. The Ancients took loads of certain grains and plants and made it so that fermenting them or putting them through simple distillation techniques could create the serums and nutrient-dense pastes necessary to elevate their descendants, after reinforcing and locking in the genetic improvements. As you research upgrades to your units, and they start moving faster, hitting harder, and surviving longer, it’s all reasoned out to be everyone slowly getting improved by rollouts of serums and injections that activate dormant genetic codes.

In the tech trees, for example, the upgrade is just called Infantry Level 1, a regular old upgrade before you upgrade to Tier 2. Just something nice to pick up on the way to the good stuff. It just gives your Infantry gets 10% in all stats, and makes them a bit more competitive until you get the next tier of units out.

In reality?

That little upgrade is a massive logistical and scientific challenge, since everything needs to be developed and then everything developed needs to be made, before being rolled out to all my armies across the continent. Thankfully, after realizing that there was no way it’d be simple to roll an upgrade like that out, I had the foresight to start researching and developing for it the moment my university came online.

Now, it was time to see the fruits of my labor.

…

The Alchemist Wing of the University was a combination of a chemical factory and a steampunk-lite workshop. Most of the higher end devices for measurements, manufacturing, and chemistry had been developed by the Scholars. After their city was used to crash into the Academy, everyone picked it clean, and everyone worked to replicate the devices that they once produced and sold at a premium. Of course, the Citadel could produce high-end scientific equipment, but they had learning curves and I couldn’t give my scholars the time needed to study the machines and learn their intricacies. So, we used rudimentary machines made by the Citadel, and the contemporary machines that the alchemists were familiar in combination.

The results spoke for themselves in the form of a dry, red powder contained in large, robust flasks held in wooden boxes filled with straw.

Admittedly, though, we were mostly getting this far because we were working off the work of the backs of giants.

“Ten boxes. Each box will be able to start the improvement process for a thousand soldiers. Distilled water provided by mages, then the measured serum will be consumed.” The first idea was to make single-use injectors, like adrenaline pens back home. The Ancients made that unnecessary by making sure that the serum could enter the stomach without issue. Not only that, but the serum itself could be dried out and turned into a powder, after which they can be stored and shipped around with immense ease. “The first shipments are already out and heading for the farthest of our troops, along with the increased rations for the next few weeks.”

In fact, it was so easy that we had another possible avenue for them.

Giving dissidents a powerful edge, until everyone else figures it out.

“How goes the theoretical studies regarding providing these to rebels?” Supersoldiers are great on the battlefield, but they were even better for espionage and clandestine actions. The Ancients made it so that most of the improvements were underneath the skin, though some improvements to the physique were natural with increased musculature and overall improved health. A talented, skilled spy is dangerous enough, but when they can manhandle policing forces with their bare hands or exfiltrate on foot at a stupidly fast pace, they become exponentially more terrifying. There’s a reason why Espionage Champions are considered a must-have, even if they’re just going to protect on your regions. If you don’t have one, while the enemy does, you’re going to lose tech, find your economy suffering, or even lose your leader. “Lysander and his sect most especially?”

“Volunteers that imbibed the serum from the Wardens geneline, from the Smiling Tyrants, showcased different physical improvements.” I thought that Infantry Level 1 provided different bonuses depending on the faction researching it, but it looked like I was wrong. Instead, it looked like the same serum, activated different improvements to each faction. The Guardians were different since most of the Infantry was just masses of Undead. They just put more magic on them or something and made them more resilient and hit harder. “The Warden showcased no improvements to healing, and in fact became lighter and more fragile, but became far faster and vastly increased in strength.”

 “The Ancients are making sure that everyone gains the most from the serum, then.” The Descendants of the Ancients got the generic 10% improvement to all stats. The Conquerors got 30% Health and Attack, so rushing Infantry Level 1 pretty much turned their baseline troops into fucking monsters that lets them blitz in the early game. The Wardens, if I remembered correctly, got 25% attack and 25% more speed, but lost 20% of their health, gearing them towards their glass cannon, swarm role more. That pretty much explained the increased fragility and lightness of the Warden who volunteered. Wait… lighter and more fragile? Are you telling me all the Wardens will be even more slender and twinkish after getting the serum? Man, the Ancients really are all perverts. Gone too soon. “It will still be quite the advantage for our planned successors to the current Warden regime. Continue to study the feasibility and bring in Khanrow to evaluate the plan.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Ayah gave a prim bow at my words, while I returned my gaze towards the serum. In the thick travel flasks that they were housed in, you’d be forgiven for thinking that they were just mundane supplies. We stored dried vitamin mixes and antibiotics from the Citadel in similar containment vessels to keep our troops healthy out there in the field. These flasks, though, are going to turn people most soldiers into monsters. Thankfully, the off-switch was just as easy to manufacture. “Anti-serum production has also reached the desired rate. Experiments towards weaponizing it for future action has borne fruit. The prisoners given the serum, provided nutrients for the requisite period, and then exposed to high concentrations of the gas experienced nausea, fatigue, and had to fight to stay awake. Over the course of ten days after exposure, the prisoner lost all improvements provided by the Ancient’s serum.”

The only thing more important than making supersoldiers is being able to neutralize them.

“Good for hitting our foes on their retreat, or pacifying possible criminals with the serum, then. Not so much for combat, unless those symptoms are especially severe. Maybe, if you couple it with some of our more lethal methods.” After the success we had with chemical and biological weapons against the monster hoards summoned by the Death Lord, I shelved and stockpiled the excess agents that we developed for war. Everyone saw them already, so it was only natural that they’ll come up with counters to them. I’m sure that they’ll notice how my troops didn’t suffer from the diseases I inflicted on the enemy and find the vitamins and antibiotics that the Level 4 Citadels can produce. In the next conflict, I’ll use the stockpiles up, but make no more thereafter. We were working on far more terrifying weapons now. “How goes the development on the Corrosive Fog?”

Corrosive Fog was an ability that artillery could unlock for the Descendants. The design intention was to reduce the armor of enemies and let rifles and small arms do more work. Good targeting and placement of the rounds would get the effect on the enemy, while sparing your troops. In the end-game, it’s pretty much needed, because your armies would run out of ammo before busting through all the armor most late and endgame units have. The skill launched a horizontal barrage across the enemy force, letting you catch multiple battalions if they didn’t spread out properly, and it effectively increased damage by thirty percent.

In-game, it didn’t do much damage to people directly, just working as an armor reduction debuff, but I had a feeling it was going to be far, far more horrific. It’s a lingering corrosive acid designs to stick and ablate armor… what will it do if it’s breathed in, gets into the eyes, or swallowed by accident? Not only that, but it can be upgraded to effectively halve enemy armor by endgame and do decent damage over time. At that point, I’m sure people will melt wading through acid that strong.

I had a feeling that it’s going to be a horrific weapon to unleash, but I couldn’t ignore it. It’s just too powerful, and I know that the coming hordes of enemies were going to be armored up to the gills, except for the Stymphalians.  Due to that fact, I was planning on making dedicated artillery units just armed with those shells to keep layering the Corrosive Fog on the enemy for a perpetual damage increase. If it was as deadly as I thought it was, I was sure that those units will need to be staffed with Iterants who can get their memories of the event wiped.

Ayah paused at my question before moving towards a desk in the corner of the room, where a box was present. Gingerly, she opened the box and extracted a piece of steel chest armor, probably the most common armor you’d be able to find on the field on most soldiers. It was pockmarked in multiple places, the straps holding it together were gone, and its lower half was connected to the top by just a few not melted threads of metal.

It looked like Corrosive Fog was going to even be deadlier than I thought.

I couldn’t help but give a hum, as simulated a possible battle against the Forgers on the surface of a table.

“Best terrain will be with us on the hilltops, then we’ll force them to come to us with aerial bombardment. If we have enough firepower, we can forget the pikes and just have lines of battlefield fortifications, guns, and artillery. Some cavalry just in case, of course.” Ayah went still by my side, probably using its hyper-computation abilities to simulate it. I didn’t need a brain like the Ancient Administrators. Closing my eyes was enough to remember hundreds and hundreds of battles against the Forgers with just the Descendants alone. “If they have cover, we burn it with incendiary. When they’re running up to us, we blind them, make them deaf, mire them in mud… and then it’s the Anti-Serum after the Corrosive Fog. That’ll destroy any masks they make, and disrupt any mages that can blow it away. After that, we lay on the firepower, while keeping cavalry in reserve to flank them.”

Ayah took a bit of time, before nodding.

I bet that she simulated every detail with great care and attention, and probably saw some issues.

We’ll solve that when making that actual battle doctrine for the field officers, though.

“I hope that your plans can be executed with such masterful coordination, your majesty.” Ayah laid it on thick with the praise. I just gave a small nod. No need to bask in it. Okay, I’m basking in it a little. Puberty’s starting to hit, so when a short-haired, tanned lady gives me a smile that reaches her eyes, I get distracted. Sue me, I’m a dude. “Rest assured, I will give my all when we recreate our warfare doctrines.”

That’s what I like to hear.

“We’ll run the usual wargames and simulations, but that’ll be how we add these new assets.” I turned away from her and looked back to the room filled with tables filled with other samples and single-page reports regarding the other projects. They ranged from our attempts at making antibiotic tablets, vitamins, incendiary compounds, and more. Unlike in the game, it wasn’t as simple as clicking one, single block on the tech tree to research. Everything was built upon each other, working off one another, and technology needed to increase to reach the higher Tiers of units, buildings, improvements, and policies. The University was proving itself as a great early investment, since all its scholars and departments could be combined to work towards the bigger goals. “C’mon, Ayah. There’s more for you to show me.”

“Yes, your majesty. I’m honored to be of service.” The bow was a bit unnecessary, but I didn’t call Ayah out on her flattery. “Please, I believe that the next appropriate showcase will be the enhancements to our incendiary weapons. With your suggestions, they have managed to compose a gelling agent which allows for solid streams of flames that stick to targets.”

Oh boy, napalm bomblets and flamethrowers are now available.

Is that worse or better than either the de-evolution gas or the metal-melting acid fog?

V9: Chapter 3

V9: Chapter 3

…

Additional Words for Monthly Chapter commissioned by Chaosbrain

Additional Wordcount: 2000

…

The Elves worked hard at making their new home both beautiful and defensible.

I gave them one of the encampment spots left over from developing Talon Hills.

Development of a region is costly, and in-game it’s better to invest and build one city or fortress at a time. In the early game, the strategy is to place basic villages to make use of tiles close to encampment spots and make them contribute to your empire. The rule of thumb is that if an encampment slot is surrounded by at least three hex-tiles with more than one unit of any resource, it’s worthwhile to place people on early in the game.

The key is to make sure the people you send out at least contribute the same amount as they would if they were in the capital.  Spots that don’t have any special tiles are better left aside for future investment, when tile improvements can be built, or early-game constructions of fortresses for regional security bonuses.

The Elves’ got an empty encampment space that had some nearby forests, but just plains on every other tile. Good for a large agricultural city in the endgame, or an artillery fortress in the mid-game, but not worth settling in the early game. Since I had other spots to take care of and invest into, I just ignored the future town construction site along with a few others in Talon Hills that didn’t meet my requirements.

The Children of the Elm, moving to assemble around their goddess, basically had a blank canvas to cultivate.

They went ham.

The modest forests were now immense. Their trees going from regular ones to the equivalent of sequoia or redwoods.  Naturally, not all the trees would fit in the forest with magic making them all gigantic… so they moved them with magic. Or, rather, the Children of the Elm made them move and plant themselves all around their new town. The trees literally uprooted themselves from the ground, shook off soil, and dug themselves into new homes in the surrounding plains. Over the course of a month, a massive forest filled with absurdly tall trees formed a day’s walk away from the capital easily visible from the top of any modest building.

I’d watched from the Citadel for a while at the sight of it.

It was one thing to know that the Elves can do it, but a whole other thing to see them tell hundreds of trees to get up and walk to replant themselves.

Once their new home was surrounded by giant trees, they started working in earnest.

The border got surrounded by fortifications in a hurry. Defense in depth with an emphasis on ambushes and tunnel tactics. Since I wanted my people to have practice at it, since we were going up against more horrible masses of enemies later, I sent in my own strategists to help and test them out in mock combat. That led the to the ambushes and tunnelling being supplemented by bolt holes for recovering wounded, pits filled with explosives and shrapnel, and hidden emplacements for our new cannons… everywhere.

They can shape the insides of those massive trees and even travel between them by making root tunnels.

Fighting the Elves in the late game with all their territory bonuses is partly why you need to take them out early. That’s just common knowledge. However, seeing it all in person made it clear that putting them down early was a good choice.

Any army going in there will come out as ground meat.

If I gave them anti-air, they’ll be able to defend it from me.

Anyway, behind those defenses was a hidden city that could relocate all over the forest. Their buildings were all living trees that could relocate as they wished. With the ability to carry around their farms, as well as just generate water with magic, there was no need for them to stick around in one place. Everything they needed moved within their new forest, and once the smaller trees grew in, they planned on making the paths only visible to invited guests.

Basically, the Children of the Elm made a fairytale nightmare forest, and then upgraded it with guns and cannons.

Again.

I’m glad I kicked these guys out of the game before they ramped up.

…

Once past all the horrific defenses, the Children of the Elm had a nice city.

All their homes were embedded into the immense, mobile trees that they made. One tree was like a single, self-sufficient street. People lived higher up, and shops and industry were kept closer to the ground. At the base of the trees, trash was sorted into compostable and non-compostable, with the former enriching the trees in question. The tent-like houses that hung from the trees, either in branches or stuck ascending up the trunk, were light and easily packed up or even joined together. At night, when they lit up lanterns, it was like the trees had loads of golden lights shining in their branches.

There were caveats of course. The Elves kept heavier industry groundside. They didn’t put forges in trees. Instead, they employed moving rock formations or hollowed out boulders, both of which had wood intertwining around or into the stone. They trundled along close to the ground when the rest of the city got up and walked. On those rock constructs, they also housed the heavy weapons, equipment, and ammunition that we gave them for their defenses.

If they thought about rebellion, they had about a month’s worth of ammunition and replacements.

The assault through their defenses would still be hellish and probably eat an entire army, but it was better than them getting domestic production of heavy weapons and munitions up and running.

But that’s enough ruminating.

It was time for me to check up on the Goddess of Nature, and see if there was any difference since I last saw her.

She was in a pure-white, elm tree that was massively enhanced and improved by the Elves. Less like a tree and more of a castle, its trunk was shaped and guided to look like a combination of a fortress and shrine. About the size of a city block, the immense tree had living towers manned by guards, and its roots were obviously not fully embedded in the ground. Anyone assaulting it would find themselves having to fight massive tree roots stronger and more durable than steel, but more than capable of speeding along as fast as cars.

It was pretty much a smaller version of their Purifier Titan, and that massive, skyscraper-sized thing was basically a regenerating giant robot with a nature aesthetic. No anti-air attack, though, so if they were planning on springing one on me, I had the answer to it already.

Anyway, I was let in without a fuss into the Shrine Fortress, surrounded as it was by praying followers and faithful from the Children of the Elm.

All of whom took up the ‘righteous’ garb of just vines and leaves, since they learned what their goddess clad herself in.

No matter what I do, the fanservice of this game just keeps bubbling up to the surface.

The innermost sanctum of the fortress shrine was past three layers of defenses, chambers where the defenders could fire arrows through walls, and where lights were all under their control. Magic was practically in every surface. Wards you’d normally find on castle walls fore sieges were on tables, so that they can be upturned and used for cover. Our more experimental wards to protect against shadow creatures and intangibility were also implemented again and again, despite their cost. The Children of the Elm did not hesitate to go into my debt for their goddess… not that I minded giving them the loan in the first place.

I passed through multiple checkpoints with Ayah and Rita following with my Iterants when a thought occurred to me.

If they wanted to ambush and kill me, they’d probably have a great chance at doing it now.

And, I would’ve feared that possibility, if not for the mark on my hand given by their goddess.

The Children of the Elm, one and all, recognized me as their goddess’s chosen with the marking.

Even the most extreme of them in our ranks looked at it and acknowledged it, then basically said that I’m one of them despite my outward appearance.

Yep.

They’d rather attest that I’m actually one of them in soul and spirit, trapped in another mortal race’s body, than consider the fact that their deity chose a regular dude than one of them.

Those guys are gold medalists for mental gymnastics.

The last set of doors were massive with an edifice made of gold. Gold was easy enough to produce in the Citadel, so when they requested a ton, I just allowed it. They used that gold to color in parts of the pure white door that they sculpted from the living tree. It depicted two hands, one for each door, holding the entire world.

Jeez, these guys are evil-flavored even when they’re trying to be good.

With a raised fist towards the door, showing the back of my hand, I gained entry into the sacred meadow within the fortress shrine.

Instantly, I could feel the difference.

Ayah took note instantly.

“You were correct, my lord. This is an exceptional increase in power.” The reports from the Iterants stationed on site, regularly rotated out and examined for any mental manipulation, told me that the Goddess’s physical form was growing and changing. They did a physical assessment after we shipped her out. Yep. She went from nearly six feet tall to almost seven since she was interred to rest here. “I believe that the reports say she still grows to this day?”

“We won’t awaken her until she’s fully strengthened. We have need of all her strength.” The Goddess of Nature was still asleep upon a plush white bed in the middle of a meadow, beneath a magical sun, and a cool pond. A tree grew beside her exclusively to give her shade. In the air, there was a tangible feeling like electricity, but somehow softer and more fluid. Kinda like when dozens of mages were prepping and pooling their power for a single spell. “I think that’ll be a few more months, still. Call the Head Priest.”

“I am here, Chosen of the Goddess.” I turned towards the source of the voice, and I was unprepared to look an elf grandpa wearing only a leaf skirt. It took all my diplomatic skill and prowess to not recoil at the sight. It was like a mental flashbang of wrinkled patches of skin over wiry muscle. “I am afraid that I cannot follow as closely as you. Only maidens may cater to her eminence. How may I serve?”

I don’t recoil at the sight of you, and you call me a virgin!?

The Children of the Elm are truly nefarious beings one and all.

Never trust an elf.

Also, I took note of the fact that he called me the Chosen of the Goddess and not by my proper title and its associated authority.

This guy’s gotta go.

Either he’s too stupid to remember to call me the king and lord of this land, or he’s got his own ideas on how rulership works.

Newsflash buddy: I’m the guy with shapeshifting terminators.

No clue how he got this far to be honest.

“Continue gathering the Children of the Elm and bring them here. Make sure that they all worship the Goddess of Nature properly.” I kept an idle eye on the guy. He had followers behind him, and he’d entered right after I crossed the threshold without greeting or acknowledging me. The followers that he had behind him were suspiciously looking older than the typical Children of the Elm. I hadn’t spared any of the Children of the Elm above certain age, but I let them in once their Goddess came into play. My gut was starting to tell me that was a mistake, and that this guy and his followers needed to be investigated and routed. “She needs more faithful—

Quite suddenly, the head priest and his fellows started coughing.

All at once.

Then, they didn’t stop coughing and began wheezing and crying out in pain.

“My lord, your hand.” Ayah spoke softly, while she and Rita took out weapons to protect me. The other Iterants in my entourage didn’t hesitate to drop the act of looking like clerks and started converting bodily mass into weapons. I looked at my hand, and found the stylized tree on the back of it aglow. I barely felt any magic, but the soft glow it gave was like the glow being given off by the Goddess of Nature still sleeping behind me. But… she didn’t give any combat bonuses, right? “I think that she has detected traitors.”

The word traitor seemed to get through to the Head Priest.

 “N-no! We are not traitors, your grace! W-we are true believers! The most true!” I was seeing where this was going. The Head Priest probably passed our assessments and got radicalized while in service. Khanrow was thorough with his vetting of the Children of the Elm we let in. The evidence lay in a few inconspicuous new gravesites all over my territories. Only 1/3rd of the Children of the Elm coming here got the Khanrow seal of approval. That seal of approval represented by the fact that they were still alive. “You are the savior of this world! It is only right that you rule over it! Su-such is the true path—gaghr!?”

The Head Priest doubled over in pain and agony, while from his insides sprouted a full-grown tree that subsumed and consumed his body for nutrition. It was a small mercy that he seemed to die before the tree burst through his skin and his skull. One of his followers was silently screaming as a whole branch was coming out of his eye, and he only perished and slumped over when roots started growing from his waist into the soil.

It was mercifully silent for a second when the trees finished growing and walked out of the meadow.

Then, one of my guards pulled out her communication slate, read the report it was transmitting, and handed it over to Ayah.

Ayah reported to me.

“Multiple Children of the Elm have experienced the same fate as this. The count is nearly two hundred.” Damn, these people were radicalizing fast. I guess having higher highs and lower lows when it comes to emotions can really mess with your head. “No more cases so far. The people outside are terrified that their Goddess has abandoned them.”

Hm.

This sounds like an event.

I probably had three options available to me, but I just had to figure them out.

The first was to tell the truth, which will lead to a loss in faith and in incoming Children of the Elm, while also making it so that no more of these zealots pop up. Short-term, great. Long term, poor. I’d rather cull a few zealots every couple of months, then lose out generated faith. It’ll probably be like a ten percent decrease to faith generation permanently or worse. The devs are never nice enough to give just a flat decrease.

So, telling the truth is out.

The second option was probably to just lie and say that the High Priest and his ilk were chosen by the Goddess to become part of nature. Make the executions look like some form of ascension. However, that sounded a lot like the bad options for managing a religion. In fact, that’s pretty much just emulating most cults. The dissidents going against the word of the prophet have been sent along into paradise. That sort of jazz. Going that route sounded like a surefire way to get mind-controlled or usurped by the Goddess.

Those two options are probably the default, if I didn’t have the assets I had at my disposal.

Most specifically, my control over the narrative and my secret police.

“Nothing has happened here.” My words made everyone freeze in place. What I was saying, after all, was patently ridiculous. However, I’ve made sure to constrain my use of my political and social influence. It’s a rare commodity. Something that I use with great care. The last time I did anything crazy with it was probably with Executive Harper. Hopefully, the tanks were full. I didn’t exactly have a number to look at, but I was going to try and tap into it anyway. “What happened to the Head Priest and the others is a mystery. No one knows what this is. They may be been sent ahead to Paradise, dispatched for wronging the Goddess, or anything else.”

I’ll turn it into a rumor, then when it turns into a conspiracy, have Khanrow replace the ringleader who pops up. The populace will just know that something happened, make their own ideas with it, and be placated and forget. The key to this event is that it shouldn’t happen again. That can be arranged through our current assets.

“This mustn’t happen again. I don’t wish for the Nature Goddess to have to act this way. Make sure that none over the age of twenty may serve her directly, and even then, they shall be watched by Iterants.  The rest of the Children of the Elm may perform pilgrimages, but they will only enter the outermost ring of the shrine at most.” Ayah and Rita were quick to pick up on what I was outlining. Basically, we were going to say nothing, let people think things up, and set up safety precautions. We can probably obfuscate and file some reports and studies about the trees. Maybe, we could make bullshit up about them having souls still, and let people fill in the gaps, and take those people over later. “And, let it be clear to those present: the deaths that we saw and heard of today were by my hand. The Head Priest’s thoughts were plain to see, even before he professed them. That was when the Goddess of Nature acted in my defense. The blood spilled this day was by my command and my responsibility.”

There.

I’ve taken responsibility over the situation and provided a method to control over it through assets that I have available. Like any optimal solution to an event, I was leveraging assets that I already had, expending a resource (influence), and following a clear path. I’m responsible for what happened here, not the Goddess of Nature, so there should be a greatly lessened chance that we accidently get onto the route where the Goddess tries to usurp me.

In short: I’ve used money and assets to make sure I don’t get bad-ended.

Go me!

I turned to Rita and Ayah, who were both looking my way with rapt attention, waiting for orders.

Hm, maybe I didn’t have enough influence to push the insanity I proposed through?

Still, though, I’m going to try anyway.

“Arrange a meeting with Khanrow, and contact the heads of our printing press, Ayah. Rita, I want you seen cordoning off the trees that have been created. If there are any questions, tell them we’re investigating. Remember, the crux is to let the world know that the Goddess has done nothing wrong. It is the truth, if not the complete one.” I drilled my commands a bit more towards the two, and they nodded in sync. Good, I was getting through to them. Hopefully, this will all work out. They moved and the rest of the Iterants that composed my guards headed my way with a bit more caution than usual. Probably because I usually didn’t spout of crazy stuff like that usually. “To keep up the act, we’ll be going straight back to the Citadel under emergency procedures. Understood?”

As one, the entire group went to one knee and spoke as one.

““““““Understood, your excellency, your will shall be done!””””””

Maybe, I laid it on a bit too thick?

…

Interlude: Khanrow

…

I laughed at the absurdity of the command that I saw at the end of the report sent my way.

The Goddess of Nature acted on Jack’s thoughts and slew zealots forming a powerblock within our new village. She acted in his defense, after the Head Priest’s true nature was discerned by Jack, and as a result the Head Priest planning to elevate the Goddess to rulership and all associated to him were killed.

Jack could have seized power, could have called himself a prophet, and instead chose another path.

The path of a sovereign who simply had one of his people act in his defense.

“Nothing happened, indeed.” I shook my head, after finishing reading the report. Morgan’s brow was furrowed as she considered the words. She looked my way. Her question obvious. “You’re about to ask why he didn’t simply call himself her prophet, correct?”

“It would instill his position over the Children of the Elm.” Morgan confirmed her thoughts with nod. She was spending more time with me as of late. Learning and listening, so that she could be of more help during the coming efforts against the Wardens. She was a swift learner. However, as I taught her, she showed me some weaknesses of hers. Whether they were fabricated or not, I still sought to fix them.

“We already have the highest position over the Children of the Elm. We decide which of them gets to live, where they work, and how they think. Not only that, but we do so without being noticed. We rule over them while they believe themselves free… and so we they come from all over the continent.”  Morgan’s eyes shone at my explanation. The Children of the Elm would act against the King of Wisdom if he proclaimed himself the prophet of the Goddess. As of now, many ventured to her with the intent of becoming Chosen as well. The vast majority of those we culled from entry had not-so-secret designs to be the sole bearer of the Goddess of Nature’s mark. “With this move, we retain our current, unnoticed rule over them. They will come, we will take the best of them, dispatch the rest, and the Goddess will continue to grow in strength from the faith.”

Morgan’s appreciation for the plan became more pronounced as I explained.

My gut told me that she already knew, but wanted it confirmed.

She’s quite the clever granddaughter to have.

“But we are taking action against the possibility of such zealots forming again, correct?”

I almost snorted at her question.

It was obvious that such a thing would not be accounted for.

“The protocol was already in place and ready. We shall be dividing them up and putting them against one another, while controlling the center. Look here. We are set to seed three separate theories on what happened to the High Priest. One is to assuage the vast majority. The other two is to grasp the two ends of extremes.” It was brilliant.  Jack predicted properly that the people will think and gossip and create stories to align themselves with. Instead of desperately trying to stop thought, he was going to fill them with ideas to latch onto. The vast majority will be placated by the news from the papers, but those who search for more will find our operatives. Both parties that rise will be under our control. “And, if we cannot control them, they shall be replaced with Iterants. Iterants who are already seeded in their population.”

Morgan was silent for a while, before sighing aloud and shaking her head.

“How do you all do it? Everything’s accounted for. No. What’s more important is why you wouldn’t share all this information so that everyone can stay calm!” Morgan stalked ahead and rounded on me with crossed arms. We were walked about the Scholar’s old Citadel. There were rumors of the Scholar’s remains finally making their move. A good chance as any to train Morgan in investigation and espionage. At her question, I just raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to think and not just talk. Her brow furrowed and she frowned… before a sigh left her lips. “It’s compartmentalization, isn’t it? It’s more than just a technique to keep information from spreading.”

“Indeed, it also keeps people focused. Too much information, too much understanding, and you can become lost. No, you may even lose sight of what in front of you. I experienced it as a warlord.” Those days felt like an eternity ago. Days where I spent nights sleepless trying to do everything, give every order with care, and barely relied on others. I made many mistakes and erred so much, because I simply had to do everything. “Even Jack limits what he sees. He looks at the numbers produced by our actions, bids them to change, and set guidelines. From then on, it falls upon those who he gave orders to, just as we have officers we give missions to in a campaign. Sometimes, if something is of immense import, he goes there himself to handle matters… and reminds us why he holds his title.”

Morgan was silent at my words. We both walked through snow for a while, stretching our bodies, after a long day reading reports and updates from the agents we had in this land. Riegert’s creation was formulaic, but he built up the Scholar’s former capital into something that can be shaped into whatever we needed. Sarala could have been sent here to make it a land to produce wealth, but it had dissidents and bordered the Guardians of the Moon. Jack was correct in leaving this place to Riegert for development.

Once war began, it will hold against the tide of Undead that was to come.

The silence stayed for a while, before it was once again broken by silence.

“I want more. At the very least, as much work as you and Riegert do, grandfather.” Her words gave me pause. Not because she lacked talent, but because of what I didn’t want her to do. “Send me out there. Let me see the enemies we will face. Allow me to be more than just a weapon, but a true asset to our nation.”

However, if I looked past the fact that she was my granddaughter, I could find no reason to refuse.

She had the power, the talent, the skill, and the intellect to do as Riegert and I did.

She can truly help us and stand next the two of us as peers.

As I gave a nod, and as she smiled in triumph, a thought occurred to me.

Maybe, she planned for this all along.

If so, she truly deserved the position.

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 13

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 13

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Acinc

…

Interlude: Ryleigh of House Remington, Aspirant Savior of Earth

…

The birth of a new era, denotes the death of the present era.

No symbol or act could have been a better final nail in that coffin a Seidan Battlecruiser covered in the Empress’s colors flying above the Arcology.

“They did it.” Priscilla whispered. Awe filled her voice for the first time. Her eyes pored over the vessel. It was shaped like the tip of a spear. Every surface dedicated to war. More than half its surface battle scared and cratered, but it flew, it was pristine, and its secrets were our progenitors to take. “Those madmen boarded it.”

“Give me your abstracts and concepts.” I leaned moved to her and gave her my holo-tab. My family and many others had eyes from it in every direction. This was likely the last we will see of it. Tactical and strategic analyses will take place to try and replicate it. “My father will work with your family without question.”

Priscilla barely took note of the praise, of the unfettered faith I placed in her, and touched the surface of the holo-tab. It projected scans of the vessels. Everything we could get on it was poured over its surface and tried to unlock what was beneath. The Empress deigned to give us some charity by not occluding any of our sensors as it flew overhead jubilant crowds, between arcing fireworks, and through rapturous cheering and applause.

Priscilla opened her mouth to begin, when a massive holoscreen projected itself above the entire arcology.

The Empress gave no command nor order for us to bear witness… but none looked away.

None looked away at the absurdity of OS-549 taking flight, though only a few would know it was him. All were engrossed at his HUD, and the various readings all over his cockpit and screen, while he ravaged the enemy.

The Psionic Tower loomed in the distance, the battlecruiser in the air, and instead of running away… he looked to his right and left.

Just two other Knights.

Then, as three, they launched themselves upward towards the great vast, 7 kilometer-long vessel.

I watched as orbitals spat fire on the vessel and destroyed its shields, as missiles and coilgun rounds streaked in to kill most of the undercarriage point defenses, and as the hangers were slammed by ortillery and long-range missiles. Every single strategy and operation meticulously called in by OS-549, each one with their timers highlighted in the corner of the vision, while he flew low and then straight up.

Straight up into lances of pure plasma, condensed waves of kinetic energy, and beams of pure energy. He fired upon them, each shot that barked killing a turret before it could kill him, and all others dodged with feats of maneuverability akin to those that I had been destroyed by in the arena. A thirty second climb into devastating enemy fire, his body breaking as his piloting suit kept him alive, and breathing impossible.

Right into a wall of fire that would subside for mere seconds.

They flew straight through that gap, destroyed the assault discs that were being sent to intercept them, and reached their apex just as the fire resumed. Then, like comets, they crashed onto the deck of the battlecruiser where an army came forth to meet them.

An army that they slaughtered together.

An army led by a Seidan Psionic Titan that OS-549 slew without even being touched by.

I felt something warm in my hands when it ended, when all the creatures died with the avatar of their alien god, and when I looked down it was covered in red.

Blood.

My blood.

For the first time in my life, I felt… insufferably miniscule.

Not once did I believe that I could have been in that seat, doing anything that I just saw, in order to seize the ship that now hovered over our home.

My weakness disgusted me.

But I can rectify that.

This state of mine can change as well.

“We need to do the same. Find Seidan priority targets, then ambush them. Smaller ships are fine.” Already my wound was healing. A servant offered me a handkerchief and I accepted. Priscilla’s gaze was on my hands, but for the first time I detected sympathy. It wasn’t pity, but understanding. Nothing that I expected from my half-sister until today. She always chaffed when in the presence of those less than her and those greater than her. I suppose that she understood how I felt now. “Perhaps, we can mimic the death scream of the warbeast?”

“That would be a massive undertaking, but if we can kill the crew of a ship from afar, it would increase chances of gaining such a vessel ourselves. The Seidans are likely to think twice before sending a ship to protect a Psionic Tower, again.”

“But they will. They must. That’s why they are here.” The Seidans will not abandon their towers. They use it to take parts of our realm into theirs for their nefarious purposes. To what end, we did not know, but their hunger was more than apparent. If they concede all their Psionic Towers, then they cannot sate themselves. They will come, and we will get our chance. Until then, we needed to prepare diligently. “I will search for likely areas where Seidan Warbeasts may be located and prepare operations against them.”

“I will arrange for a laboratory to receive and study it.” Priscilla gave a curt nod, and without another word moved to leave.

I was tempted to just leave as well, but I forced myself to speak.

“Thank you, Priscilla. I cannot do this without you. In this task, we are equals and partners.” I made it clear. She was not subordinate to myself. Nor was I underneath her. Neither were we simply allies of convince. In this task, we were partners. “You have my trust. Ask me of anything, and I will get it for you to the best of my ability, so long as you explain why.”

Priscilla paused mid-step, and for the first time what seemed like a smile flickered on her face, before her usual sternness returned.

“The same goes for me as well, sister.”

She walked away, but even her attendants were shocked by her words.

They were almost warm.

…

I was strapped to a bed, IV dripping replacement blood into my veins, while machines tended to me. The mechanical arms scanned my body with a blue light, highlighting muscle and veins through skin, and produced all sorts of tools with various needles at their end to fix me up. Scalpels let loose coagulated blood, tubes extracted excess swelling fluid, and a cocktail of drugs was applied in various doses all over my body in precise increments. Instead of stitches, they used some sort of bio-gel to lather onto any cuts, and provided it with a form of light. In moments, I gained new, pinkish skin.

The medical technology of this world was the kind that could make someone in their hundreds look and feel like they’re in their late twenties. I was sure that the nobility didn’t have to worry about dying, either. Naturally, if an asset proved their worth, they’re given access to the same surgeries used by the elites.

Of course, there was no public information regarding modern medical procedures in this world.

Thus, I was pretty sure that orphans are probably chopped up into a slurry and somehow used to make up the healing and revitalizing medicines involved in the procedures.

I wouldn’t put it past this fucked up world to do something like that.

Anyway, within a few hours at the medical station, I was patched up and ambulatory, despite breaking multiple ribs, losing a lot of blood, and bruising every muscle and organ that I had.

Ready for a meal and to get ready to go to school the next day.

Honestly, I kinda wanted to be stuck in a hospital room for a bit.

Cina-140 was waiting for me right outside the medical room.

With a suit.

Dammit.

“Didn’t we talk enough on the transport?” I grumbled. The Empress had been there with Lady Hariss when I handed over the ship. While in my cockpit, getting moved carefully and not being let out as to not let me condition worsen, I’d debriefed. “Can I get something to eat?”

“Sir, Lady Hariss has requested your presence at dinner this evening in the main house. The Empress will be present, as well.” I lived in an attached structure to Gray Corpse’s hangar. We were on Hariss territory in the Arcology, but not connected to the main mansion. The main mansion was the size of several city blocks and its hallways used hover-cars to transport people to various locations. With over a thousand servants, the Hariss Family numbered just three people, but they had a whole village catering to their every whim. They considered themselves frugal… and they were right. Most other noble families of their rank had homes the size of towns with servants nearing ten thousand. “The transport is ready and dinner will be within thirty minutes.”

“A small snack then, please? I don’t want to look ravenously hungry for dinner.” My request got a nod, and for a moment the suit was forgotten. In my fresh patient gown, after getting disinfected from my healing, I took a seat while Cina-140 handed me a small bulb of nutrient jelly. I broke it up in the pouch and sipped on it. Since it was a small bulb, barely bigger than a gold ball, it was just around a two hundred calories. A high-protein snack with just enough carbs and fat in it to make the stomach feel full longer. Normally, Cina would just stand aside and think while I ate, but this time she kept looking at me. “What’s up? You look like you’re thinking pretty hard.”

“…How do you do it, sir?” I’m not a sir. I’m a dude. Maybe, bro. How about fella? “How do you stare at death, come up with ludicrous plans, and then commit yourself to doing the unimaginable?”

Well, that was a pretty simple question to answer.

“Probably cause I’m a freak who likes fighting in giant robots. Really, that’s all there is to it. I love what I do, and doing crazy stuff to put my skills and builds to the test.” This world is cruel, petty, and fucked up. The vast majority of people are debt-slaves in all but name, while the corporate-aristocracy rules over everything. The only cool parts of this humanity and this reality were its tech and how it used that tech for military purposes. Everything else was fucked, so I just focused on those two. “You should just think of me as an outlier. Think for yourself and find your own wants and limits.”

In short, I’m a fucking freak in this world.

Everything I want to do here, on this Earth, is centered around piloting a mechanized assault unit. Looking to me like some sort of inspiration is just asking for trouble.

“I… I see. Thank you, sir.” Cina didn’t look satisfied with the answer. Why would she? It’s practically a non-answer. Looking my way, I was sure that she could see that I wasn’t lying. She was disappointed that was all there was to it, in fact. “Are you done eating, sir?”

“Yep, let’s get this show on the road.”

I got up, stretched, and moved to get this unskippable cutscene over with.

Then, it’s school, and a few more days until I can sortie again.

…

I thought that I’d be eating a fancy dinner with Harris and Empress.

It was a bit different than expected.

I was meant to eat dinner while two other OS’s were standing by in piloting suits, obviously as malnourished as I was.

Or, rather, previously was.

I was in recovery, technically.

“Lady Hariss. Principal.” I gave formal bows to the two of them, before officially acknowledging the presence of the two other OS’s present. Both were wiry, thin, and twelve years young. I gave them the usual acknowledgement I gave other OS’s. “Yo.”

Both blinked away rapidly at my statement, while I took the only other seat at the circular table that dinner was to be eaten at. Not even a spot for them to eat at. There was barely room for three people, in fact. I’d call it intimate, but both Harris and Empress were dressed in suits with military long coats over their shoulders. Hariss had a few shiny, new medals on her left lapel. Empress, meanwhile, had a stupid amount on both sides of the jacket that went all the way to the jacket’s waist.

Ma’am, you’ve got enough metal through medals to stop pistol calibers.

“OS-549, you may be seated.” Lady Hariss gave me the go ahead, I bowed, and took a seat at an even pace. The two gazes of the other OS’s were drinking in my movements. Obviously, they wanted to take my spot. “These two are OS-216 and OS-143. They will be your new squires and you will train them.”

I took in that info, looked at the two feral children, and gave both a nod.

“I’m going to give you two a loadout. You’ll work to get it, use it until you have no debt, and then we’ll take missions together. Call ins are only the three cheapest of the day. Scout and plan before engaging the enemy, focus on dodging, and get your accuracy up past 95%.” The two’s eyes widened at my initial words, then they got serious, and started nodding along. I was surprised. These two looked like they were committed to doing it. “I’ll send you recordings of my fights and how I do things. Watch them and learn.”

OS-216 and OS-143 gave small, sharp nods after I finished speaking, which was satisfying enough.

Harris seemed to think so as well.

“The two of you are dismissed. Report to your new dorms and be ready for recovery procedures.” Lady Hariss stated, before going silent and bowing her head. “Empress, the floor is yours.”

The principal of my school gave a nod and looked my way.

“OS-549, how do you feel about capturing a 1st Class Edict AI?”

“Tell me when and I’ll be ready, ma’am.”

Looks like this dinner was a mission preview!

Amazing!

V9: Chapter 2

V9: Chapter 2

…

Since everyone was hunkering down and getting their shit together, it was time for me to keep pushing my lead.

In-game, there are quite a few things that players can do to catch up. The primary one is to ally like the Dwarves, Undead, Dark Elves, and Beast Tribes did. Allies share Citadel level, and that’s a massive boost that you get to keep even after you stop being allies. Even in-game with NPCs, you can find another NPC faction that’s losing like you, and you can send them an ally request and they’ll accept it, especially if you’re across the map.

There even used to be bugs where people would just ally NPC factions at the start of the game after finding them and get an upgraded Citadel early. People stopped doing that when they realized that NPCs can usually make better use of the extra resources than them. The devs kept the option available, but made it chance based, and if you failed to make an alliance you’d lose your Leader and Citadel. Meaning, that you received a game over.

What’s the chance of the NPC faction accepting and not fucking you over instantly?

10%.

It also deletes the most recent autosave and save, if you didn’t turn the option off in the settings, so rerolling it loses you at least a few turns.

The devs really understand that gamers will do crazy stuff again and again nonstop… if there isn’t fifteen minute period between each attempt.

What was I talking about again?

Right, catch-up mechanics.

At the highest difficulty level, with all the crises coming at you, usually restarting is your best bet. All you’ll be doing is delaying the inevitable. However, below that level and with just one or two apocalypses coming your way, then you can make use of a lot of mechanics. Use the intrigue layer to steal money or tech from your opponents. Wall up your chokepoints and farm random events with your new Champions, so that they can level up and take the place of those you lost. Start improving tiles like crazy and get buildings for your districts that reduce happiness, but increase production.

Of course, there’s costs to doing so.

Spies stealing money aren’t preparing insurrections or rebellions.

Defenses at chokepoints have high upkeep, and whatever army you make is going to be weaker than the one you lost if they stayed alive. Decreasing happiness means lower population growth, or even losing population entirely. There are also tons of bad events that only pop when you have high upkeep costs, low military strength, and negative happiness across your empire. Budding rebellions, brigands spawning, and demands from your citizenry to improve by building certain buildings or removing certain ones.

But if you use those rebellions and brigands as EXP to level up your new armies and Champions, you’ll get a decent army.

And, if you have enough money stolen from your enemies, you can choose the option to just give your citizens money to fuck off while you fix the nation.

So, yeah.

There are catch up mechanics that can be implemented if you’re on the back foot.

But, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, they take time and effort to implement.

Any decent opponent would put you down before you could spend either and see the results.

In short, while I did need to spend money keeping my lead, I also needed to keep putting everyone else down before they caught up.

My first target?

The Wardens.

…

On the surface, the Wardens are your fanservice faction with all their troops, Champions, and leaders barely wearing anything. Every one of them was fit, had dark tans, amazing muscles, white hair, purple eyes, and great looks. In the early days, when the game first released, the forums were filled with ‘what I expected and what I got’ memes, with a lot of players gravitating towards them.

Everyone expected a lewd race that catered to every demographic.

Everyone got a death cult with yandere supermodels that can’t be fixed.

A lot of people considered that an upgrade, but they’re not living on the same planet as the Wardens.

The Wardens are cultists who worship paradise. Paradise for everyone and everything on the planet. To do that, they either get you to drink the cool aid by spreading their culture across your territory and population, or they march in with armies that they can easily regain until all your armies and city populations are wiped out.

 If you prop up your own religion to counter theirs, then they’ll consider that grounds for war.

 If you stall their culture by having a decent culture of your own, then they’ll consider that grounds for war.

If you go to war against them, they’ll never surrender until you’re at their Citadel, where their greatest wonders are, and you’re looking down the barrel of decades of a slow slog of a siege.

I think that the average siege of a Warden capital takes fifteen turns.

Turns are three months long from my estimates.

That meant the siege will last nearly four years, with them reviving their troops incessantly and equipping them with basic Citadel armor and weapons. Meanwhile, for those four years, my troops will need logistical chains, replacement weapons, get rotated out and back in, and astronomical amounts of national treasure and will power. All the while, I’ll also need to watch my flanks from any attacks by the Warden’s allies, as well as making sure morale is high, otherwise the Wardens will break out, spread over their territory, and I’ll have to redo the siege after they surround their capital with temple-fortresses.

In other words, Wardens are best dealt with at the endgame with the freakishly op weapons at that stage, after their power has been curtailed the entire game. However, if you had to deal with them before then, it’s generally agreed upon that causing a civil war was your best bet, while building up an army to swoop in and take everyone out at the same time. While you’re doing that, you also need to keep improving your nation, researching, doing events, and search for items or Wonders.

Juggling all that on overnight gaming session is great.

Handling it all was barely tolerable with help.

Thankfully, I could just focus on the nation building and research and events, while everyone did everything else.

…

I didn’t visit the research district often, but when I did, I was generally happy with what I found.

Today was no exception.

The first service rifle and infantry kit were finally ready, and Ayah was presenting it to me with pride.

“As requested, here is the final design of the infantry pack.” I left the designing to the scholars and the infantry that were going to use them. The final design was surprisingly like a larger, more durable school backpack. Main compartment with two straps, side pockets, and a second sub pouch. Zippers were thankfully figured out after a few pieces were made from the Citadel, so things could be secured. “It is waterproof and durable. The straps on the bottom are for carrying a sleeping mat. It can carry three days of water, one hundred rounds of ammunition, and a field repair kit. There is also extra space can be allotted for anything else a soldier needs.”

Ayah moved on to squares of fabric next to the bag.

We commandeered an empty classroom for this little presentation, since there was a lot of the kit.

“Since coloring and dying each pack and uniform was deemed difficult, shawls and camouflage covers have been commissioned instead.” With the diversity of biomes on the continent, this was the best course of action. Every region was different in fauna, flora, and environment. Instead of making uniforms specific to each place, covers for gear and the uniform were better from a logistical standpoint. Otherwise, we’d need eight sets of uniforms for every soldier. Cloaks you can just put on, or duffels you can stuff your pack into, were easier to mass-produce and stock up. “We worked extensively with the Children of the Elm and the few Scholars that we have on staff. The aim of the new camouflage is to obscure the shape of the individual and make them blend into the environment.”

“Both look good.” I didn’t have military training or anything, but the stuff was looking modern from my point of view, so it may be great. These guys at the university were here because they could innovate, research, and make things happen. What was I going to do? Waste more than a year and a half of investment and effort and say it’s shit? “How about the rifle?”

Ayah’s grimace told me a lot.

“The issue lies with longevity. The barrels wear out after five hundred rounds.” We were taking a massive leap from Minie balls rolled up with paper wads and gunpowder and primers. Instead of going the needle rifle route, we were going straight to brass cartridges with built-in primers. It was why I focused on getting a lot of armor on my pikes and getting locomotives, while also encouraging any market that wanted to work with brass. I wanted metallurgy to be good enough to start making rifled barrels and their ammunition. However, it looked like the ammunition was too strong and the barrels were too weak. Probably because the alchemists were great at replicating the contents of the bullets used by the semi-automatic cannons produced by the Citadel. Meanwhile, metallurgists were trying to desperately make steel that can withstand near-futuristic ammunition. “But it is within tolerances and improvements are planned. However, if we want to stay within the current timetable, the first batch will have this defect.”

“Do it. We need those guns. If the ammunition does what it needs to do, we can deal with needing to replace weapons. Make a note for quartermasters to replace the weapons after five hundred shots.” The current weapons that we had were good for killing mobs and Tier 1 units. However, we saw that they weren’t enough all the way back when we fought the corrupted Conquerors. Those guys were technically upper Tier 2 units, mid-game units that can be churned out incessantly by a decent economy, and they ate up tons of ammunition. Literal tons. The average Conqueror took over ten shots to put down. Given how many shots miss, we only took them down through sheer volume of fire. Even then it was a close thing. We won because they were heavily outnumbered, in a chokepoint, and held back. If they had another thousand Conquerors waiting on the wings, we’d have lost. “The ammunition does what we need it to, right?”

“Indeed, it is a miniature version of the rounds produced by the Citadel for the Conqueror’s guns. We tested your recommendations and found it effective against large targets and longer ranges.” I asked for stopping power and they provided it. I wasn’t a gun nut, but did like westerns a bit as a kid. One of the facts that stood out to me was that when driving out west people killed a lot of buffalo, and even as a kid I thought that’d take a lot of firepower, since those things were massive.  The 50/90 Sharps cartridge was for putting those massive creatures down at long range, made without any fancy propellants, and robust enough for the Wild West, so I put it forward as a potential design. They worked off it, and now I was looking at the bullets.  Rounded tip, rimmed cartridge, and brass cylinder about the length of a finger. “Production is completely without assistance from the Citadel.”

“Very good. Any luck on testing different shapes for the ammunition and different compositions?”

“The primary will be lead, but cone-shaped steel has proven very effective at penetrating armor. Sustained fire even gets through Citadel armor plating, but our attempts at explosive rounds and incendiary rounds are better suited for that.” That made sense. Lore-wise, Citadel alloy armors are very bullet-resistant, but the meat behind it typically isn’t. That led to incendiary weapons or explosives to make the person wearing it burn alive or get hit with enough force to break something. “But we believe that the normal round with the lead tip contains enough firepower to kill most targets. Tests on a few bandits from Warden stock showcased that they find it difficult to dodge, and a single hit is enough to blow off large chunks of their body.”

“Then, put the exotic ammunition for small runs and only for specialists, after they’ve been deemed safe for use. We have what we need.” These were the guns we were going to use to conquer the Wardens. Given the fact that they can revive in the battlefield, but revival took more time and effort if the body was less whole, I wanted a rifle with a lot of stopping power in the hands of my massed troops. In fact, I was tempted to dissolve my pikes and turn them into rifles. But that never ended well in the game, since there’s always something that rifles can’t put down fast enough, so I abstained. “What’s next?”

I turned around and faced the rest of the square classroom.

Like a science fair, the products of the projects I gave my scholars were arrayed simply with details and data on simple posters. The scholars were all just waiting at a get together, enjoying a free meal before they get bonuses and a small faction, until they return in a week. Every single one of them was a mind that I cherished and carefully kept track of, and I barely abstained from giving them all Iterant spouses, and just settled with giving them Iterants as personal assistants.

Because, through them and the university, I now had a military roughly around the Civil War era.

Roughly, because there was one thing that we invested that was beyond that.

Ayah smiled as she walked over to present the two-wheeled, breach-loaded, and rifled artillery piece. Beside it was a larger version of the munition meant for the rifle, but with a different form of ammunition. Instead of a cannon ball or a shell, it had a hollow Citadel Alloy dart filled with lead, which was surrounded by a sabot jacket. Once fired, the gases built up and propelled the whole thing forward. The sabot provided the seal for the gasses to push the dart forward, and came apart after exiting the barrel… letting loose a nigh-unbreakable, Citadel dart full of the densest material we could reliably get our hands on at the target.

Ayah didn’t say anything, and gestured at sloped armor over half a foot thick made of Citadel alloys… pierced completely through.

Yeah.

We finally have something that can put down an Ascendant warmech and anything else of their caliber.

That meant we had a chance at winning, no matter how slim, instead of just prolonging a loss.

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 12

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 12

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Acinc

…

Interlude: Robert Stein: A Scarlet Knight

…

Madness.

Sheer. Absolute. Madness.

That was what I was in the middle of now.

Scarlet Knight was thrown back. The Seidans shouldn’t have anything that can push it back. At twenty tons, it’s a middleweight mechanized walker and considered heavily armored. Seidan pulse weapons, their only weapon that imparted kinetic impact, would take hours of sustained fire to get through to its armor.

But I was being pushed back.

Because a fucking Seidan mech just rammed me!

“Fuck. OFF!” It was a spindly thing. Half purplish flesh and half glowing nanofibers. It didn’t have any armor, and its weapons were expended. I considered it a non-threat. A mistake. It rushed me, while I was firing at tanks trying to get a firing solution. It proved me wrong by overboosting and colliding with my mech, while whatever it had for an engine started going critical. It failed to protect itself against the raw strength of my mech smashing through the pilot cockpit, and I threw it at the tank column. It exploded into a micro-singularity for a brief second, and the tanks and the mech disappeared. “They’re really desperate now!”

“A child could tell! Shut up and cover me!” Hoss cried out, and Blue Harbinger pinged me. Instinctively, I went to him. Blue Harbinger was covered in armor with most of its upper layers burnt away by plasma. Even as we spoke, combat damage control drones were frantically all over his machine, spraying ablative foam over the patches, applying armor panel patches that used explosive rivets to latch onto his machine, and some were even performing combat welds. They worked, staying out of the lines of fire of his various sub-weapons dotted on Blue Harbinger, even while he clamped down onto the surface of the ship and readied his artillery piece. “I’m killing that damn thing!”

That damn thing was the warbeast the Seidans typically used to power their weapons. Part of the ship, and a military asset at the same time, the warbeast had ports al over its body composed of wrinkled gray matter. The Seidans used the beasts to power their strongest weapons and do the calculations needed to rip into other dimensions. Scientists theorized that it would take a supercomputer the size of a building to compete with the thing’s processing power, and we’d nee multiple fusion plants to keep it operational, while the warbeast just needed a constant food supply.

Rankers who fought them said their armor is as tough as a ship’s, that they carried ship-grade weapons, and taking them on without artillery support was a death sentence.

Gray Corpse has been flying like mad around it, killing everything in the path of its strafing orbit around the creature, and setting it on fire, while tearing out chunks of it with its primary weapons and missiles.

The kid was making the thing look like a joke, staying out of its blasts, leaping over it whenever it managed to turn fast enough to catch him in its gaze. Beams of baleful light burst from the creature, killing Seidans incessantly, but it didn’t care. None of the Seidans on the ship cared about anything besides killing the three of us, and securing their ship.

A crackle on our communications system suddenly came.

The voice that was driving me mad came through.

“Take out the bridge first! Prioritize the mission!”  Fuck. The order made sense, but I didn’t want any part of it. As crazy as the kid was, he outstripped me and Hoss both in terms of skill. His ammo reserves were still at half. The amount of kills he had were both of ours combined. His accuracy readouts told me that he practically never missed. Anything that could be killed with a single shot died with a single shot. I wanted him off the warbeast, because we were going to get killed by the swarm if he didn’t come back soon. “I’m almost through to its core! Just give me fifteen seconds!”

I almost balked at the impossibility, and checked on the warbeast from the corner of my eye.

Oh.

He hasn’t just been orbiting and firing away at the creature wherever he could land a hit.

He’s been dodging everything it threw at him, all the Seidans coming to help their asset, while tunneling through the beast by hitting it nonstop at the Same. Fucking. Place.

The kid started tunneling through the damn thing the moment he engaged it!

I sent the info to Hoss and his reply was to turn his artillery piece towards the bridge, while his armor-weapons started clearing out all the Seidans suddenly rushing our way.

Standing their way was one mech out of its depth.

But with victory on the horizon, I wasn’t about to give up.

“C’mon and show me what you’ve got!” I roared out the challenge on open comms. The Seidans hesitated for a second. That sort of challenge would normally have them answer me and focus me down. But the insanity of the situation was swallowing them up, too. They knew they had to kill Hoss or the kid, or the ship will get taken. I made the decision for them and charged in. “Face me, cowards!”

There was no typical roar of defiance. No psychic admonishment at my words. None of the usual honor or elegance that the Seidans tried to showcase while they took over our planet.

No.

In this fucking insane situation, we’re all just goddamn animals fighting for our lives in machines that can lay waste to cities in an hour.

They countercharged me, ignoring Hoss, and I dove into the fine mess that I made.

Don’t fail me, Scarlet!

…

After determining that Harbinger and Knight were badass enough to survive on their own against the chaff, I dealt with the warbeast.

Not as exciting as it sounds.

I’ve fought the squid’s warbeasts before, and for all their power and strength, that didn’t change the fact that they’ve all been imprinted with the same techniques and knowledge. They’re giant floating brains primarily used to power weapons and rip tears into dimensions. They don’t exactly go out there, train, and figure out new techniques for the next fight.

They’ve got three attacks.

Big purple laser beam of doom that’s also good at killing secondary objectives and lasts ten seconds per shot, fifteen if the thing’s almost dead.

Telekinetic strikes with random projectiles, almost always five or so in number, that homes in on you as long as you’re vaguely in its field of vision.

Then, finally, they control a drone swarm that pelts you nonstop with electricity-based attacks that threaten to shut down your systems and get you hit by the other two attacks.

After you’ve killed a four of them, you’ve pretty much figured them out.

The rampant AI have far more bullshit. They try to make mechs explicitly to counter you if you linger too long on the battlefield.

Even the bugs mix it up and adapt if you stay in a region too long, so they’re even more creative.

The squids?

They don’t change… in fact seeing them come out unarmed and underequipped was a surprise.

Heck, it was pretty cool that they started using new tactics like charges and suicide grabs.

Didn’t change the fact that they were unarmed and underequipped, though, and they were already the squishiest enemies and still had their regular moveset.

So, back to the fight.

“Quarter circle. Fire. Quarter circle. Fire. Leap over. Drift. Fire. Laser’s going off… now.” After the excitement of the climb, this fight was pretty boring. The brain was struggling to catch up, turning to try and face its most massive eye at me. Its drone swarm was fast and trying to ram me, but those things were basically fodder against one mech shotgun. Let alone two that were twinlinked and could go fully automatic. “You’re recording this, right, Cina? Like I said, this thing always makes the same moves.”

“I am.” Cina was being terse. Probably because the mission was more difficult than expected. I guess that it didn’t help that she could see that I was bruised and bloody from the climb. Oh, that’s a mech trying to grab me and hold me down I my rearview camera. I snap one arm back and shoot it full of hypersonic flechette, while pumping a shot down the tunnel I was digging through the creature with bullets. “You can stop recording. I no longer recommend calling in a tactical nuclear weapon.”

Yeah, they usually call in a small nuke for these guys.

“I mean, it’s a fast way to deal with it. Distract them enough, and they won’t notice the thing coming their way. They’re easy enough to kill, though.” Shrapnel and chunks of armor from the battlecruiser surged at me. If I had point defense weapons, they’d just be shot down. Since I didn’t have any, I holstered one of my shotguns for a moment, picked up a corpse I was passing by whilst skidding across the surface of the battlecruiser, and threw it at the homing projectiles. They connected and exploded as a shower of psionic shards. Then, I re-equipped my gun, while sighting the hole that I was making once again. “A few dozen shots at one spot, after opening it up with an explosive, can get you to its vitals.”

Past the meters of brain tissue, I saw the warbeast’s massive brain stem and heart combination. It looked like a pulsating, transparent tree trunk flowing with blood and crackling with energy, which allowed the massive creature to survive. It was really a lot of wasted potential. If they gave the thing a self-sustaining body, some massive legs with some weapons on it or something, then it’d need to devote less of its power towards just existing.

Mechanize this thing as a giant psychic brain spider, give it some heavy artillery and plasma autocannons.

Then, we can have a real cool fight worth calling in a couple of tactical nukes for.

But, until then, I guess I had to just be satisfied with shooting a massive glowing spot on an enemy after shattering enough layers of flesh.

I boosted forward and jammed both my mech’s arms into the tunnel that I created. The creature screamed and tried to turn to face me, but I was embedded into it with both my mech’s arms.

I was sure that I was deep enough into the massive, alien brain, but I didn’t want to take any risks.

That brain stem was heavily shielded, despite looking so vulnerable.

I hit my boosters and embedded my mech further into the creature, my sensors became engulfed by the flesh of the creature… and the sympathetic sensors in the grip of my mech confirmed that the barrel ends of my two guns connected with something and could go no further into the tunnel.

There was only one thing at the end of this tunnel.

I flicked the massive, shed-sized switches on the sides of the immense shotguns upward with the thumbs of my mech.

 ‘FULL AUTO’ flashed across my vision.

Yep.

I unloaded both shotguns right into the brainstem/vitals of the warbeast. High explosive shells sped out of the barrels of one heavy automatic shotgun, while hypersonic flechettes streaked out the weapon’s twin in my other hand. The ammo counters for both were in the forties, and in a blink, they were at thirties, and another they were below twenty. A total of eighty massive, mech-shredding explosive and armor-piercing hypersonic rounds in five seconds. The twin-linked chains of ammunition ran out after just five seconds… and when it stopped, I found myself looking out the other side of the creature.

Then, it’s psychic death scream hit like a truck, like thousands of animals and people screaming out in agony at once in my own head.

Augh.

Damn.

My nose was bleeding again, my heart was surging past a hundred again, and I felt a sting of a needle as stimulants were applied to keep me from passing out making both worse… but the scream was pretty useful.

I extracted myself from the corpse of the beast and looked around whilst an echo ravaged my head.

The rest of the squids were convulsing whilst falling over or already dead.

Classic brain boss.

Kill it and the minions die.

…

I was patching myself up with a medical kit in my cockpit when a ping from Lady Hariss finally came through.

While a small fleet of blocky, human warships came in the distance.

After the defeat of the brain, we knocked down the Psionic tower with some called in nukes, and the drones and battlestations mopped up the incursions trying to reclaim the ship. With the Psionic tower down, along with their bases surrounding it, they weren’t able to send anything big through. Usually, squid incursions started on the ground with portals just a few meters wide putting tank columns, infantry, and mechs through.

Granted dozens of those small portals and tens of thousands of squids was a problem, but they weren’t as big a problem as their ships.

But back to Lady Hariss.

“OS-549, you are relieved. I am sending a transport your way. What is your condition?”

“Hey, boss. Alive. Not kicking anytime soon, but alive.” After the adrenaline high and the stimulants wore off, the pain hit. I was sure that I broke a few ribs and a few smaller bones. My suit was keeping me strapped to my chair and I barely had any range of movement. It hurt. Everything hurt, but I wasn’t coughing up any blood, and a scan told me my intestines were okay. Bruised, but not punctured or bleeding. That’s a win in my book. “If you want me wiped from the history books, can you do while I’m asleep with a full stomach?”

That statement earned a singular laugh from Lady Hariss.

“No. You won’t be escaping that easily, OS-549. Perhaps, those two Rankers can by retiring into obscurity, but not you. Not when you made this happen.” I was tempted to talk those guys up and drag them in, but decided against it. If they stuck around, I’ll be happy to fight with them. If they decided to retire and stop being pilots before things got even more crazy, I’ll let them. “The Empress heard of this operation the moment we acted upon it.”

“Oh, damn. We’re both in for it now, then. Sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

“I could have allowed her to take control. I did not. I will bring glory and power to my house.”

I parsed those words for a moment, considered my next statement carefully, and then spoke to my boss plainly.

“You know that she’s a psycho that’ll get rid of you the moment you’re not useful, right?”

“Empress is right here, OS-549.”

“Hello, OS-549.”

Again, I chose my next words carefully.

“I’m not wrong.”

That earned me a booming laugh from Empress, while Lady Hariss just sighed.

Guess we’re both hanging on for a wild ride.

I mean, for me, I’ll surely get to fight all the crazy shit that I want to fight while in a death-dealing giant mechanized walker that’s cool as hell.

Don’t know what’s in it for Hariss.

Wealth and reputation doesn’t seem worth it, in my opinion.

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 11

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 11

…

Interlude: The Rising Heiress: Madelynn Harris

…

Operation Descending Star was absolute madness, and a gamble of everything that House Hariss has built.

Our treasury, our war chest to attempt to rise in ranking amongst nobility, was halved the instant the operation began. I bought the other Knights present at the battlefield. The airspace and land of the region cost a staggering amount, despite the presence of the Psionic Tower erected by the Seidans, because any land that they tried to claim is known to be rich in resources. Then, there were the instant purchases made by OS-549, as well as the need to recruit an immense force to guard the retreat and the area.

Decades of careful investment and saving of profits evaporated in seconds.

My lady mother and lord father were calling in minutes, but they were stymied with a simple statement:

If we succeed, we are ascendant.

That was enough to quell their concerns, but soon after another warning came.

A fast-moving transport approaching our lands and heading straight for the facility.

In time with the warning was a call to my personal communicator.

I answered.

“Empress.”

“Report.” There was no guise any longer. No implication. Not a mote of a suggestion. I spoke with the ruler of humanity who was crafting our society into a weapon for her personal use. Of course, she had eyes on our finances and our movements. That was just a matter of fact. “My eyes will be on location within half an hour. It will be too late.”

“A Seidan battlecruiser breached into our dimension to protect their Psionic Tower. It jumped in to guard it, and avoided the smoke and debris of the surrounding shield generator bases.”

I didn’t need to explain any more, or provide the rest of the information.

She knew.

And, she gave a low, chuckling laugh.

“Those arrogant bastards finally made a mistake. Their attempt to secure victory has become their undoing.” Her words sent a chill down my spine. I could hear her smile and vindication. However, more clearly, I heard OS-549’s earlier words. They mirrored each other. In temperament and personality… and most likely in mind. Was that even possible with his genetic limitations? Or, perhaps, the Empress’s genetic improvements merely brought to the forefront human traits that were always a possibility? “You’ll need a secure route back here.”

I swallowed the building tension in my throat.

With a word, the Empress can send the whole fleet to secure it… and House Hariss will receive little t recognition and maybe gain no ownership over the battlecruiser.

No.

The prize for that was immense, but it was not enough.

Not when we could get more.

“House Hariss is ready for this duty. Let us fail, before you intervene, Empress.” I stood my ground and there was a deep silence across the line. Then, a single soft chuckle.

“Go forth, then, Madelynn Hariss. Struggle, suffer, and strive with all the ambition that you have. Risk everything… for everything.”

With those last words stated, the line cut, and I was notified that her ship was landing at my operation center.

I gave her the clearance to enter, and access the dataflows, but focused on my duties.

This is it.

The moment my household has been waiting for.

It came suddenly, violently, and demanded everything that we have, but if we succeeded, then it would be all worth it.

I did not hesitate to start leveraging loans against my family’s assets to acquire more ships and more firepower, while triangulating the fastest route for the battlecruiser to reach us.

Today we take the leap.

Either we fall and perish, or take flight to untouchable heights.

And, everything was reliant upon OS-549.

At that thought, I spared a look at the screen tracking his progress, as the whole command center was dedicated to coordinating the assets he kept calling in.

I snorted at the ludicrous sight.

Millions of credits were being expended. Thousands of munitions were crashing onto the field. Drones of the highest quality were being pulled in. Fortresses were being dropped from orbit. Every orbital asset vaguely close to the site was being requisitioned and repositioned at truly eye-watering cost.

Meanwhile, OS-549 was dragging two poor Ranked Knights upward into glory onto the deck of the ship through a ferocious storm of plasmafire, Seidan fighters, and energy bursts.

Three blue arrows in a sea of red heading for a battlecruiser that utterly dwarfed them in size.

Ludicrous.

Absurd.

Miraculous.

Many struggled to tear their eyes from the screen, to do their duty and not be captivated, and I was the same.

This is what it feels like to witness history.

…

The squids didn’t use software or AI automatic targeting with their weapons.

Some researchers say that they have some sort of code of honor, or at least a custom in their society that stated killing must be done by warriors. Assistance is fine, of course, but there was no lock-on capability involved.

That meant that the underside of the battlecruiser we were facing looked like a mass of bulbous protrusions of varying sizes and shapes, as well as massive turrets. They swiveled quickly, aimed our way, and shot at us.

However, because those turrets were manned/squid-filled that meant we could shoot back.

It meant that climbing up wasn’t impossible.

Our attack warning systems could inform us when an attack that was about to hit was about to come. Additionally, with a few missiles obscuring fields of fire, we could blind sectors of turrets from attacking us with chaff, signal jamming, decoys, and everything else we could throw. Whatever we couldn’t dodge and couldn’t blind, finally, we had to kill before they killed us.

Saturating the side we were ascending at with missile fire and coil guns, as well as setting the deck on fire to keep shields from coming back online helped too. Swathes of the bulbous ball-style turrets were destroyed by missiles, set aflame, or gouged off the hull. With those gone, we just had to deal with the remaining forty-percent of the surface area we were opposing being covered with guns… and flying saucers coming out in force from the deck to try and stop our advance.

The wave of discs armed with plasma casters, though, were interrupted with my next call of support.

Long range, anti-aircraft missiles launched as a swarm collided with the waterfall of interceptors. Their warheads were massive and designed to shoot out fields of shrapnel. Though a swarm of hundreds came out from the battlecruiser to stop us, the tide was mostly stoppered by the long-range anti-fighter missiles streaming in to stop them.

That’s when the orbitals’ contribution came in in the form of sustained shrapnel bursts, designed to shred swarms of lightly-armored vehicles and bugs. Aimed right at the hangars where the discs were streaming out from, the thunderous barrage streaking in smashed apart the fighters, and threatened to close their path.

Between the stream of missiles and the orbital artillery firing away, the fighter swarm was effectively nullified with the few that got through dispatched by us while we dodged and wove through streams of plasma, bursts of bright green wave-force energy, and small-caliber plasma bolts.

There was a problem though.

The wall of shrapnel shredding the enemy fighters before they killed us?

Yeah.

That was also in our way.

Both Red and Blue both started pinging me nonstop about it when they realized what my plan was.

There was a gap, you see, between the barrages of both orbital shrapnel bursts and long-range missile spam. They came from different sources. After getting expended from one source, the next set of missiles and shrapnel burst from orbit needed to come from another arsenal and another suborbital battlestation. With proper timing of requests, and infinite money, you can keep requisitioning assets, staggering them, and make sure that the firepower is constant.

So, I made a window.

A small thirty second window.

A window we needed to fly through, or we get shredded by our own missiles and artillery.

The pinging was getting pretty annoying, so I went ahead and just answered them both.

“Boost in ten seconds. We all see the same thing. The window’s about to open, and when it closes you die.” That’s all I had. I shut off the communications and primed my suit ready for maximum speed. The suit was meant to help me overcome the g-force by externally applying pressure across my body to keep my blood flowing. There’s a lot of mumbo-jumbo and sci-fi around the suit. Artificial muscle fibers, microscopic hydraulics, and even some sort of self-distributing, smart impact gel arranged all over the back of my suit. All that I knew about the suit was that it let me reach 6 forces of gravity without dying… and that’s what I needed. “Over-boosting on my mark… Mark!”

I slammed into my seat, and darkness filled the corners of my vision, until the machines surrounding my body kicked in. Pressure and pain suffused me, and I grunted as the machines started to squeeze me tight and forcibly pump my blood through my body. It was like feeling pressure cuffs at maximum rolling all over me at once, from the tips of my fingers and toes, all the way to my head. My heart ached as it suddenly received unwanted mechanical assistance, and breathing was all but impossible… but I was conscious and not dead even as I felt blood spill out of my nose and my eyes felt like they were about to pop.

All that I needed, really.

Gray Corpse sped up. Despite being thousands of tons, the accelerometer registered my speed at 1 kilometer per second, while dodging enemy anti-air fire. Lances of plasma flew past me, streaks of plasma bursts were everywhere, and the din of lock-ons were constant.

But, up ahead, for a moment the wall of fire and shrapnel stopping the flood of fighters from coming down on us stopped.

We had ten seconds to pass through it, to go past it, turn, and land on the surface of the battlecruiser, before the barrage kept the enemy hangar suppressed.

The math was brutally simple.

If we didn’t get through in those ten seconds, we died, and in those ten seconds fighters were going to confront us while supported by the defenses

10.

Three fighters exit the hangars.

9.

 I take one out with a burst from my primary weapons.

8.

Scarlet takes out another with high-caliber autocannon rounds.

7.

Blue Harbinger misses with its primary, but a missile launch from its back kills it before it could reach us.

6.

We were halfway through the suppression field. The squids notice the gap and unleash more fighters from the hangar gap on the battlecruiser side.

5.

All three of us knew this was going to happen, so we have all our guns pointed at the cratered, burning entrance, while flying straight up.

4.

Well over a dozen enemy fighters are flying out, some realize what is happening and activate weapons, but it’s too late.

3.

We adjust our weapons to a slight downward trajectory. The recoil will push us up, just the slightest bit, and unleash everything.

2.

Three mechs armed to the teeth with heavy ordnance replace the fire power of missile batteries and orbital battle stations for just 1 second. Alarms blare in all our cockpits about oncoming, friendly munitions.

1.

Emergency boosters flare at once for all three of us, as alien fighters explode in the hangars and block the ones behind them, and we crest through the kill zone… just as missiles appear at our feet and massive fragmentation shells streak past us.

0.

We reached the apex of our climb, our bodies twisted before slamming forward as our mechs turned in midair to re-angle our mechs downward instead of up. Like comets, we surged towards the burning, charred deck of the squid battlecruiser.

I was finally able to take a single breath, while my heart thundered in my chest, and my piloting suit relented in its efforts to keep blood flowing through my body.

Tomorrow, I’ll be covered in bruises… but it’s a worthwhile price to pay.

“There it is. The command station.” Scarlet Knight and Blue Harbinger flanked me. A glance at their vitals told me they were in the same state. Hearts running way past a hundred beats a minute, signs of minor injury all over the body, and warnings to provide them with stimulants and pain relievers. I spoke before granting them. “Go with the stims, but the pain relievers can slow you down. I don’t recommend it.”

They didn’t get to reply, as the top deck began to open up.

The surface was burning and cratered. Any external weapon pods were gone. The squids disgorged troops from the underside of their ships, but they also had access ports on the top. In space, the more ways you can get your troops out the better, after all.

Hatches hissed open all over the deck.

Tanks trundled out with weapons at the ready, but with battle damage still on their hulls.

Mechs leapt out of chutes with barely any armor plating on them.

Smaller versions of their fighters, their equivalent to drones, spun out of hatches and swarmed together in the air to head our way. No weapons, just their bodies and shields.

We caught them with their pants down, but they were going to fight anyway.

Then, finally, they unleashed one of their abominations. A floating mass of meat covered in grafted cybernetic parts to keep it alive. A living brain with a singular massive eye, which was protected by large machines shaped like mechs, but were more like pure-white puppets wielding weapons.  However, unlike all other iterations of the squid warbeast, this one didn’t have any armor plating. It only had a shimmering purple shield covering and protecting its squishy body.

They came forth, poorly equipped and without all that they need, because didn’t have a choice.

They were desperate to retain their ship.

I could tell that both my fellow mech pilots realized the same thing, and got ready without a word.

Even after refreshing our munitions before the climb, we were expended.

Armor hits to non-vital areas.

Ammunition expended to put down turrets before they picked us off.

Engines barely cooled down after the stress from the climb.

And, I’d bet their faces were just as bloody and mouths as filled with the taste of hot iron.

But we’re here, we’re alive, and we’re here to win.

Only one real phrase to start off this party.

“Commence mission!”

V9: Chapter 1

V9: Chapter 1

…

Manipulating the AI into doing what you want is easy, even on the most unfair difficult setting.

Set yourself up nicely, win fights, and don’t fuck up.

There you go.

The problem is that there’s more than one AI.

Do all of that and you basically get to enjoy getting every enemy faction allying with one another and cutting you down to just your starting region.

Dataminers on the forums could get more into the specifics, but the general theme is that the enemy AI looks at what you have on the board, but doesn’t react to your ‘hand.’ Having resources in the bank or higher stats for your cities doesn’t count. The enemy looks at your assets. The number of tile improvements you have, the number of buildings, and how many armies that you have. Naturally, the AI needs to research the right techs and scout, before they can act on that information.

So, playing against the game in the highest difficulty setting i.e. non-bitch mode, requires knowing the game like the back of one’s hand, being able to mitigate any bad events that occur, and knowing when to capitalize on an advantage with overwhelming force.

Play enough matches, and you see the habits of the AI, how they react to what you do, and you generally start to understand their timings and strategies.

Unfortunately, when the AI decide to fight each other, everything starts getting real fucky and hard to predict. Any competent player can play out the one-v-one against an AI. The game devs, though, had fun setting up different rules for their AI to fight against one another and randomize things a lot. A normally aggressive faction will turtle and work on their economy. A diplomatic faction will start mainlining combat tech trees and pumping out units. The economists will start breaking down their tile improvements and start building up high-upkeep military defenses.

Once the AI stop interacting with each other, you look at them, and they’re nothing like you expect.

In short, the AI in the game interact and randomize each other the longer the game goes on. Couple that with the randomized nature of events after the tutorial section, the different results of the questlines each different Faction Leader has, which Champions survived or died, and things naturally get weird. No game is the same, because the circumstances with each game is different, and every faction develops differently from the start up until the finish.

That’s what makes the game fulfilling and repayable.

Every start of a new run, you’re not sure who you’ll be facing off at the end, and once you reach the end, they’ll be different from the normal faction you expect. If enough events trigger, and enough questlines pop, you might even look at a wholly different faction than you faced off at the start. Sometimes, they’ll even have a different leader, perks, and units.

It makes every run of the game different and interesting.

Unfortunately, different and interesting are both fucking horrible to deal with in reality.

…

 Good news: the Children of the Elm were flocking all over and consolidating under the Goddess of Life that we’ve found. This in turn has led to a large increase in our population, and that population being surprisingly truthful and planning long-term rebellions according to our Iterant agents in their population. They were happy to just focus on helping their goddess gain power, started cultivating forests, and participating more in agriculture. All things that led to increased outputs in our forestry industry and our food industry, which allowed me to shift workforces around to other areas, since our storages would be filled in months if we kept everything the same.

The Children of the Elm were also very interested in becoming more productive members of society and interacting more with everyone. It was probably linked to the Goddess of Life. Maybe, there was some lore about them having a strong connection to her, or maybe being in her presence revived the portions of their genetics that stopped them from being genocidal maniacs. I was still going to watch them, and have the knives ready to slip just in case, but by all means it looked like the elves were going to be a significant force in the future.

By that, of course, I hoped that they’ll give actual bonuses, offer me their special units, and give me access to their technologies. As they were now, they were just people slightly better at managing and working in the agricultural centers. If I could get the massive production bonuses they get from forests, their long-range units, and maybe even their Champions, I’d say that the Goddess of Life is a good find instead of a suboptimal one.

However, as always, there’s always a negative reaction to major events like this one from the AI.

“Guess Celia pulled the trigger.” The Undead in the game were specialized towards low upkeep units and high production. Their in-game questline decides if they’ll continue fielding massive amounts of decent Undead units, or if they start fielding specialized Undead like Vampires and Liches in the late game. The Noble path or the Revolutionary path. It looked like Celia picked the latter. “That’s going to be a big problem.”

“You don’t believe she’ll be able to sway her supporters to her cause?” Khanrow was hanging around, so we had the meeting in the massive surveillance center under the Citadel. All around us, there were hundreds of Iterants interacting with the terminals of the Citadel. They were monitoring anyone outside of their homes. Most people just warranted a quick scan, to see if they’re doing fine, but some people were always watched. Scholars that were top of their fields with access to valuable information. Craftspeople that were manufacturing armor for our flying castles. That sort of thing. “So far, her changes have brought only praise.”

“Praise from the common people. After all, they’re benefiting from it immensely.” Off the top of my head, the revolutionary reforms were semi-Soviet in style. The new factories manned by skeletons and zombies output ridiculous amounts of goods and food. Many people will never have to worry about food, housing, or goods needed for daily living. The problem is that’s a massive slap to the face of the meritocracy espoused by the nobles of the Guardians of the Moon. Nobles who happened to have immense amounts of wealth, power, and influence thanks to being immortals who’ve lived for centuries and who are also the cornerstone over Celia’s monopoly over violence. “The nobility of the Guardians will recoil from it, they will demand it shut down, Celia will refuse, and there will be blood.”

No matter what happens, no matter who wins, at least ten percent of the Guardian population will be gone before it ends.

Most players think it’s a decent price to pay for specializing into either route, but those are people playing with pixels.

Here?

Now?

History is going to be scratched out of blood-soaked pages.

“Hm. I’ll have my agents there keep an eye on things. Perhaps, you’ll be wrong for once.”

“I hope so, especially since we have our hands full with the Wardens. If something happens there, we’re not able to move.” Our resources for espionage were tied up with the Wardens. We could squeeze the treasury and get people over there to see the revolution end in our favor, but that squeeze would be on our budding war chest. We can’t afford it without shooting ourselves in the foot, therefore we can’t afford it all. “If your agent there is good, I want you to keep Celia alive. Or, at the very least, her cause.”

“Affection for your old schoolmate?”

“The ideas she’s proposing now are needed. Undead working in factories, masses of Undead taking the field, and using the hundreds and hundreds of years of corpses at our feet to our advantage? That’s something we would be grateful to have.” Khanrow’s eyes widened at my statement, as he saw the picture. In-game lore for the Undead collectivists stated that they changed the paradigm of war around necromancy completely, practically to the point where they can send a Lich with some support and establish bases that spew forth Undead nonstop at their enemies. That was a paradigm shift towards real-time strategy where only the number of corpses in a region mattered along with the energy lines in the region. Basically, a commander-style RTS, but with Undead. “At the very least, we need them to discover and encode their ideas, and maybe take in a splinter faction adherent to them. It’s basically a line of thinking that we can’t afford to ignore, because of the benefits that they offer.’

“I see. I’d want a few hundred thousand Undead swamping my foes as well. At the very least, it’ll slow them down while we get big enough guns on them.” Khanrow agreed, and pretty much outlined one of the best strategies to use with such a force. Swamp the enemy with shitty, but free units, then pour artillery on the enemy. Sure, it’ll get rid of some of your own troops, but why would that matter when you can just keep pulling up more remains from the ground and shunting them towards the enemy? The only way to stop it is with incredible micro, target fire with artillery, or some air units if the enemy doesn’t have defenses or their own air units. “Right. I’ll get that assignment figured out.”

I gave the guy a nod, before moving onto the next move we were set to make.

Sending an expedition out into the ocean, since we had a greater chance of finding the War Goddess floating around there than over here.

And, honestly, any of the Ancient Wonders from the seas will be a great help in keeping our coastal regions secure against the squids.

Man, I hoped that the Forgers were dealing with the early events of those guys.

Otherwise, they’re going to get everyone killed by giving the squids a population boom.

…

Interlude: Grimnar

…

The village stank of rotten fish and corpses with burst torsos.

“We’re too late. This place is lost. Set it aflame.” I dedicated my life to hunting these creatures after my failure to save the Trueborn. My betters understood my method of penance. They took from me my luxuries and gave me a cell and cot and fed me nutrients. Outside of my work, I only trained to kill more of the creatures, and at work I furthered the cause to kill them. Now, I led the foremost organization dedicated to killing the creatures. We pursued them outside the tunnels now, having routed them from our home. “If there are any survivors, have them be seen by physicians. Guarded physicians.”

“We should not waste time.” Henrick growled. He was born for war and conflict. He stood nearly as tall as a descendant by was as wide as Trueborn. He gave his body and mind over to our people after learning his genetic inferiority. He could no longer father children with his enhancements, and his life will be only a decade or two longer, but it was a small price to pay. He can give his all to the Trueborn. “Any alive no longer have minds of their own. They are infiltrators.”

“It is likely, but there are some who could have hid and escaped their powers. This size of an attack means that there is a hive in the region. Even a faint direction will be of use.” Henrick gave a guttural grunt at my words. His visage and body were entirely encased in armor. The hissing of pipes and valves informed me that the machines keeping him alive were at work. The pain must have been immense, but he bore it all for the Trueborn. The pain relievers he was given would rob him of combat potential, so he did not use them. Only for rest and sleep. “Loretta, have you found a trace?”

Loretta was carried on a palanquin by re-educated undesirables clad in black. They had no tongues, and their ability to reproduce taken from them. Their eyes were glassy and bereft of will. Two had fresh scars beneath their eyes signifying that their induction was recent. There were many such flesh golems now. There were many who tried to betray the nation and flee to other lands. Cowards and traitors all. That their flesh could provide some penance was a mercy that they did not deserve.

Loretta was confined in a great machine held by the flesh golems. Like Henrick, she gave her body to the Trueborn. Her machine was meant to replace the use of a staff and artifact. Her visage was lovingly crafted onto the vessel. That of a beautiful Trueborn, stoic, and passionate with a vengeful glare. It was the only face the she will have after being sealed in her machine. The machine hummed as it collected magic from the air and gave her far more power than any mortal could. Her magic was strong and sent a tingling sensation across the surface of my skin, despite my defenses. It was sent from her and probably reached the horizon.

There was a moment, then through magic script she spoke to us from where she rested forevermore.

Few were as valiant as her, willing to give everything to the harvesters, until naught but a head remained and kept alive by magic to remain in service.  

I read her report and relayed it to the others.

“Loretta has found none in this area, but be aware that some may be hidden.” They could burrow swiftly into the ground and wait in there for weeks without movement. They barely needed to breathe and think while comatose, but still their tendrils could detect while covered in dirt and ground. If someone got too close, if they entered the range of the abomination that dared use even Trueborn as hosts for their eggs, they would be swiftly killed and used by the creature to further its own ends. “Henrick, I want you on patrol. Keep an eye out for any survivors. Trust your nose.”

“Very well.” Henrick’s voice was guttural and his gait heavy, but he moved forward into the destroyed town. In each hand, he carried sheathed great axes whose metal surfaces were coated with metals that emitted invisible rays. Cuts by his weapons ensured death even against people with strong regenerative properties, such as our foes. His toughened hide and organs and armor protected him, but few could fight in his presence. He was a solitary figure, fighting alone, for the Trueborn. He had my utmost respect. “I will find these creatures and kill them.”

He moved forward while Loretta stayed close to continue passively providing scanning the region.

More and more attacks were being aimed at our Resource Extraction Hubs by the creatures, targeting the servile populations of mortals who acknowledged the might of the Trueborn.

Though these people were not Trueborn, they were above me, Loretta, and Henrick.

They were allowed to have children, multiply, and serve the Trueborn by working at these Resource Extraction Hubs.

They deserved our protection, even if was at the cost of our own lives.

Giant Robots? Say no more. I’m in. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

…

Commissioned by Chaosbrain

Additional Wordcount: 2000

…

After five or so weeks of fighting bugs, it was time to fight against the squids.

Meaning that it was time to get Gray Corpse fitted out with an entirely new loadout.

Fighting the bugs is all about staying power and ammunition conservation. That’s why I focused on bringing along energy weapons. If you don’t burn out the emitters, you’re golden for the prolonged fights against them, especially when you’ve got enough point defense and armor. For their heavily armored units, the units that you’ll need to overcharge your lasers against, I used the electromagnetic pile driver to smash them apart, or used my shoulder-mounted artillery at point blank.

Trying to fight the squids with the same loadout and mindset is a surefire way to get killed.

First off, they have both energy shields and cloaking abilities.

The former was very effective against lasers, which made kinetic weapons with a lot of mass behind the shots more effective. Unlike the bugs, they didn’t have much armor or regeneration, so some mech-sized cannister shells are highly effective. Missiles were also very effective against them, though you had to remember to bring fragmentation or high explosive. SABOT over penetrated, while shaped charges were overkill.

Their weakness to heavy kinetic problems solving was why they had cloaking abilities. They didn’t want to get locked on and perforated by point defenses, nor did they want to get hit by a missile. The bugs made up for the fact that lock on was easy with them with sheer numbers. The giant squids practicing combined arms warfare with some of their own mechs did their best to avoid getting hit.

Then, there were their weapons.

They focused on precision and high armor penetration, meaning that dodging and not being detected are the best methods to not getting killed. Their standard mobs are squadrons of tanks with really big guns. Slow firing and easy to outmaneuver, sure, but if a few from the column get a few hits on you, you’re kissing parts or weapons goodbye. Whatever they shot glowed bright blue, immolated organic matter, and scorched through armor like nobody’s business, and humanity’s energy shield tech… is garbage.

It ran so hot that even the best heatsinks couldn’t keep the temperature down, it went down in a few hits from the tanks, let alone the big guns the squids had, and finally it took minutes to recharge. F-Tier equipment, at least for people on my level with my budget. There were rumors that the newer models were way better in every way, but they were out of my budget since I’d need a total overhaul to mount them, so I just didn’t think about them.

Anyway, fighting the squids is pretty great.

They go invisible, you set everything on fire.

Their shields flare up against the flames, then you shoot them with big bullets.

They explode into chunks of purple flesh and armor, popping like large balloons of flesh, and then they start calling in big ships that you need to kill with big guns before they fire on your position.

If you’ve got the right loadout to fight them, and go at them with the right mindset, then you’re golden.

What’s the mindset?

Glass cannon tactics as a bouncing, lightweight-frame mech with flamethrowers, shotguns, and as much high explosive as possible.

…

“This is your operation target. A psionic uplink that is protected by three shield generators.” Since the mission area was far away, I was moving towards it while my boss relayed the information. Cina was running systems checks for the fourth time to make sure all the new fittings and systems were working. I gave up on telling my operator to relax at her second check. “Estimates show that upon completion, the Propagation effect will increase in the region by ten percent. It is already at eighty percent. If you fail in your task, you lose the region.”

The Propagation effect used by the squids alters the surrounding area around a big tower of theirs with psionic energy to warp it to their needs, while protecting their new slice of real estate. If they hit the required threshold, they project a void-black shell around the area and effectively take it for their own dimension. Why they did this wasn’t known, but the spheres they created were massive, and could engulf whole arcologies.

Letting their tower complete was pretty much allowing them to import massive amounts of people and raw materials for them to use in their war.

It’s so important that I’m not dealing with the operation solo.

“Two knights will be separately attacking shield generator site one and three. They hail from House Steine and House Tuden. Middling houses, but both are Ranked.” So, there was politics at play here.  “Both have worked together for years as a strong pair. Do not get in their way. Care only for yourself.”

Never mind, they’re going to die within minutes of each other and I’ll have to deal with all three shield generators. Or, maybe, it’s going to be a double boss fight for the glory of taking down the psychic tower.

“How likely is it that they’ll pair together and try to kill me near the end of the mission?”

“Unlikely, they’re more likely to kidnap you, create a flash clone, and put its corpse in your machine.”  Lady Hariss answered and I gave a low whistle. “They are both houses eager to gain glory and prestige. You’ll be disappeared and dissected for your genetic stock.”

“So, kill them, neutralize, or avoid?”

“Kill them.” Lady Hariss answered simply. “If they try anything, of course.”

“Of course, people are boring to fight, anyway.” I shrugged, and a shrill alarm blared. Gray Corpse usually didn’t shake when the hangar opened to the outside, but with the lighter frame, it rattled in its holding clamps. “Pilot’s always in the same place. No redundant systems. Nothing special to deal with. Bleh.”

“Hm. Cina-140, commence your duty. If there is any necessary support required not already provided, call me. This region cannot be lost.” Lady Hariss cut off at that, while I watched the altimeter. At the halfway point, I pulled the chutes. The decoys mimicking booster signatures were getting plucked by blasts of bright blue energy lances. With my heatsinks and with my boosters cold, I was able to stealthily insert with hundreds of tons of armor and weapons into enemy territory.

“Gray Corpse is at full operational status. Please manually verify the status of your new weaponry.” I landed, barely feeling the sensation, thanks to the reverse jointed nature of the legs giving excellent suspension. As spindly as they looked, they were geared for making up for the lack of boosters by giving running and jumping and sprinting more oomph. They also double as great support weapons. Legs that can send a mech flying up a hundred feet can easily send tanks flying or break armor. “Pilot, confirm?”

“Confirming.” I gave a hum, while running through the weapon systems. In each hand of my mech was a heavy shotgun. Each one was twin linked with immense drum magazines and double-barreled. They were just within the tolerances of the arms that fit the speed frame. Seventy shells for each gun, I had one reload for each weapon, giving me a total of two hundred shells filled with a combo of armor piercing flechette and high explosive with the gun able to fire them in tandem, one at a time, or staggered so one would fire before the other. “Handheld weapons show all green. Checking on launchers.”

Instead of my usual artillery, I went with racks of micro-missiles. They were micro in that they were only as long as a sedan, and they only had a range of five hundred meters. In the back-mounted missile racks, they were stacked tightly in separate chambers to prevent them from blowing up in a chain explosion when hit. I had about eighty in total, and each one had a specialized armor-piercing tip and a shaped charge that deposited a superheated material that burned like thermite into a target. Horrible weapon for the bugs, massive overkill for anything and low ammo count, but against the squids one missile could delete most of their units.

“All missiles green. Checking internal weapons.”

Unfortunately, a big drawback of the lighter and faster frame was that I couldn’t strap it up with reactive armor, claymore-style mines, and point defense cannons. It could only support so much weight… so I focused on smoke launchers to block the enemy’s line of sight and a lot of incendiary launchers. The former was if I couldn’t find any cover, but the latter was for finding the squids when they cloaked, or to put a constant strain on their shields, so that it didn’t recover fully.

“Internal weapons all good.” I finished my check ups and Cina-140 gave me the all clear on her end. “Give me the tactical overlay, please. Highlight the places where a resupply drone can be sent.”

Right.

Time to plan my sortie out, then it’ll be time to rock.

…

Interlude: Robert Stein: A Scarlet Knight

…

I’ve fought for a long time. Ever since my graduation, I barely spent a week between sorties. Most of my cadre called me mad. Or, a money-grubber. Both unfitting for a knight of a household. Still, while most of them started dropping like flies after letting their skills waste away with months between missions, I remained and Burgundy Lancer kept up with the newest gear and equipment.

Eventually, my work, my training, and my mech gave me a spot on the Rankings.

#9458 to be exact, barely within the top ten-thousand, but it was a Ranking.

Meaning, that I got trusted more, paid more, and given more dangerous assignments.

I’ve seen a lot in my day, but today took the cake.

The rumors about Gray Corpse and the Hariss’s new knight were plentiful, but this was beyond expectations.

“Hey, Hoss, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Yeah, Rob, I am.”

We both looked at the mission we were given, and pulled all the favors we had, and got our credits out the bank. Every missile we could get on target, every orbital strike, and every knight willing to risk their lives for credit. We worked together and got our shield generator locked in, obliterated them, and got ourselves in position to assault the Psionic Tower and waited for Gray Corpse.

We found Gray Corpse dancing in an inferno.

The lightweight build the pilot used was almost too fast to follow with the naked eye. Combinations of full bursts from the oversized engines and the double-jointed legs made it nauseating to keep track of. It burst between columns of pure-white, battle-saucers, multi-limbed mechs, and even patrol ships, leaving each one destroyed before going to the next.

One moment the pilot was engaging an enemy group or patrol.

The next that group was dead, and the next one was being dismantled.

The massive heavy shotguns spat out explosive rounds and armor piercing flechettes with every trigger pull firing both barrels. With their shields and optical camouflage disrupted by the constant output of incendiary bomblets from Gray Corpse, one trigger pool resulted in sprays of purple blood and shattered pure-white armor. When ships came into play, the mech leapt upward and landed on the deck of the ship, and blew apart the bridge with both its handheld weapons.

While descending, as those on the ground focused on it, it fired smoke and missiles at the same time.

“Do you think anyone can keep up with him in dance?” Hoss’s voice was low and steady. I could tell that he was focused on analyzing the rising star. We both knew that we were looking at someone beyond the norm. As we spoke, the mech landed amidst a column of saucer tanks. Their hulls opened, their middles revealing techno-organic psionic casters that can flay apart armor with ease. They turned on their axis to aim at him. They already made a mistake, or rather the landing decided their fate. He landed at the back of the column. The tanks had to spread out, had to turn to face their front at him, and that took precious seconds. Seconds that he used to place a homing missile in the center of each one and leap over them and boost to the next target. They were dead just as he landed again, and his weapons roared with heavy thumps that signaled the death of another enemy group. “Anyone that we know that can survive that hell?”

“At our ranking? No. Maybe, in the 1st Thousand.” From 1st to 999th were the elite Knights. Those who stood at the very height of warfare and who can achieve impossible missions. Taken aside, taken away from their Houses, they became true warriors of the nation. Entrusted with the bleeding edge of technology, supported fully by the nation, and deployed where all hope is lost. Many of them fight and keep the orbits ours, and are even sent in missions into enemy territory. At that thought, I realized that was exactly what this pilot was doing. “Yeah, he fits in that group the best. This is the sort of mission that they do. Impossible odds, limited support, and with no allies… and succeeding.”

Hoss grunted, and I turned to him, while he unsoldered the massive 230mm cannon on Blue Harbinger. The massive weapon required him to holster both his primary weapons, lock down his mech and push out supports that dug his mech into the ground, and he only carried half a dozen shells. A combination of chemical propellants and electromagnetic coils would launch the self-guiding, specialized projectile loaded with a custom warhead.

I didn’t see any big targets for him to hit in the field… besides one.

My blood froze.

“There’s a bounty?”

“Bring in alive for research and development.” Hoss replied simply, the massive weapon twisting and locking closed. The weapon began to charge and heat up, while mechanical armatures moved to feed a shell painted blue into the weapon. “Enough for me to get out of this meat grinder. You too, if you’re willing to join in.”

I barely had a moment consider the offer when warnings started blaring on my sensors.

Hoss cursed, while my blood ran cold.

Missile lock-ons from Gray Corpse.

I checked our distance.

We were well past the range of those missile’s autotargeting capabilities.

That meant… that we’ve been marked and painted long enough for a custom targeting pattern to be locked in.

My mind was awhirl. How long have we been painted? How far do I run? Were my boosters ready for the job?

And, finally, was a I ready to fight against the monster that just devastated an enemy complex with just his mech?

A message suddenly came up, just as I began calculating my chances.

“Don’t start anything and nothing happens.”  The words were concise, simple, and from a young voice. I barely recalled that the pilot used to be an OS. Someone meant to be placed in a mass-production unit or spare with parts that can no longer be refurbished. I looked towards Gray Corpse out of instinct with my optical sensors… and found the mech looking my way surrounded by destroyed wrecks burning blue, whilst covered in purple blood. “Choose.”

Hoss was silent for a while, before pinging my channel.

Finished with his own calculations and theorizing around Gray Corpse.

But not me.

Blue Harbinger’s ‘head’ turned my way as he realized that my assault cannon was pointed right at his cockpit.

At this distance, even with all his heavy armor and reinforced piloting pod, one trigger pull and he’ll be destroyed by a burst of armor piercing 120mm shells.

 “Fuck. Fine. I give. We’ll finish the mission and that’ll be that.” Hoss knew the score and powered down first. The lock-ons disappeared from me, and I presumed him, so I lowered my own weapon. I closed my eyes, half-expecting the lock-ons to come back and for Gray Corpse to charge at us with those massive guns sending immense amounts of firepower our way. Instead… nothing happened. In fact, Gray Corpse just turned and started finishing off the rest of the base. “…Looks like I owe you a few drinks, Rob.”

“Fucking hell, Hoss. Don’t pull that sort of shit. That pilot’s out of our league. Hell, you should’ve realized it’s a suicide mission when they told you to offer me the same payout for going along with it.” Hoss grunted, suitably chastised, and finished unloading the shell from his cannon and finished powering down the massive weapon. He undeployed his mech and readied his primary weapons. I watched and found him keeping them pointed down, so I obliged and did the same.  Looks like we were both going to live. “Just forget the mission and report whoever sent it to you to the Ranking Association.”

Hoss promptly decided to hit me with a bombshell by saying nothing.

The silence was damning.

“Fuck. No. Don’t tell me a goddamn thing. Stay quiet and keep that shit to yourself.” The Ranking Association, or someone high up in there, must’ve placed the hit. That was why Hoss was willing to do it. He’d have been shielded from the people who would’ve brought him down. It made too much sense, I hated it, and didn’t want to deal with it. “I’m going to start helping the kid out to finish this fight faster. Keep your bullshit to yourself.”

I’m going to survive and toe the line as one of the lowest Rankers.

Low risk may mean low reward, but it also meant not having to handle the absurd amount of risk it takes to get the reward of being able to stop being a knight.

I’ll keep my head down and not die, thanks.

                                                                                            …

Damn, they really backed down.

That meant that whatever’s going to happen in the next half of this mission is going to come from the squids.

“Tactical fusion weapon armed and ready to destroy the shield generator. Moving out.”

“Confirmed.”

The squids were as fun to fight as always, but the bosses they offered are usually a pain in the butt. They committed a great sin of game design: the loadouts effective against them aren’t the same as those effective as the mobs and elites of the faction. A patrol gunship or a frigate can be dealt with fast with a combo of incendiary bomblets and heavy shotgun fire to the cockpit/bridge, but destroyers, cruisers, and battleships are all better dealt with via heavy armor and armor piercing weapons.

Meaning that my current loadout was on the weaker side if they popped out.

And, I’d thought I was being smart by going with a lightweight build to deal with both the squids and other human mechs.

Thankfully, I set aside my fire support for the mission towards dealing with ships.

“Hey, Cina, can you check on the fire support that I’ve asked for. I have a feeling that we’re going to be dealing with at least a cruiser. Maybe two or three destroyers.” Destroyers were above a frigate for the Squids and they sent them out in pairs or trios. One covered the others with defensive fire, while they sent in swarms of micro-missiles with superheated plasma payloads. They usually looked like flying saucers with wings that curved inward, and their command centers were reinforced as well as within the vessel itself. Dealing with a trio of them usually required a lot of armor and countermeasures. As good as I am at dodging at the last minute, to let the missile swarm hit the ground instead of circling back and hitting me, their salvos were massive. Even with point defense helping, armor was needed to sustain one or two hits. It’s always better to get rid of them fast. “Can you have them actively scanning these three points?”

Looking over the map, I was able to get a grasp on where the ships would enter our dimension. The three bases were smoking craters, which would obscure their vision even high up in the air. They also needed to protect the psionic tower, meaning that they had to be able to interdict shots aimed at it. That left a slim area where they can circle around their protection objective and didn’t obscure their vision of their battlefield.

I was going to have that area pre-sighted with anti-ship missiles and long-range coil-guns.

They’ll come to Earth from their dimension and basically go pop.

I gave a hum as I went over to where my two companion mechs for the rest of the operation were, and the fusion bomb went off. At that close of a range, the generated heat from the bomb was more than capable of melting the advanced armor and protective systems of the shield generator. After it went down, the protective dome around the area went down, allowing more high-energy weapons through the shields and letting us access our various support powers.

My two allies had elected to get some low-energy support, so that the shields wouldn’t bother them. From what I detected on my sensors, they used a lot of money to call in a lot of automated drones to swarm their enemy, while they provided support at key moments. They weren’t lazy, of course. In order to get their drones in, they needed to blow up the anti-air batteries in the area, and they did that on their own.

Still, though, I didn’t consider it a good move.

They wasted practically everything on drones to take care of the first objective, while the main objective was still ahead of us.

Well, at least they were fresh and had plenty of ammo and energy for the coming fight, so that was a plus.

I reached them and gave them a confirmation ping to continue our mission… only for a sudden shift to occur.

Well, that’s a bigger gate that I thought would appear.

To the left of the skyscraper-sized psionic tower, a line of energy formed in the air. It was like someone was taking a plasma cutter towards reality, tearing it apart like metal, and the air itself boiled while reality warped, stretched, and contorted around the line. Then, from its center, it began to turn and carve out a circle in the air. My sensors provided me all the information that I needed. The circle had fifty meters of width, meaning that we were about to be visited by a rarely sighted vessel: a battlecruiser.

Battlecruisers are jack-of-all-trades ships, unlike cruisers and battleships. Cruisers are geared for providing a defensive screen against mechs and laying waste to armored units. Battleships were for destroying high-value targets and spearheading assaults. I thought that the former would come, since for the squids this was a defensive mission. Putting a battleship here would endanger their own asset.

However, a battlecruiser made sense for the fight, since they were between the two in terms of firepower but also had plenty of defensive measures. No massive fuck-off guns that could level a building in one shot, but enough firepower to destroy superheavies that cruisers struggle with. They can’t provide a defense screen against a saturation attack, but they could most certainly defend against air-strikes called in by a strike force.  

I guess that getting these two onboard to fight with me was the right call.

Because with them, we can take the ship down faster.

“Cina?”

“Operator standing by.”

I was ready to ask her to gut the thing and help jumpstart the kill, but then a factoid about battlecruisers came to mind.

They have massive self-destruct radiuses.

That meant… this was my chance to do something really, really fucking awesome.

“Give me an overlay of the self-destruction mechanism of the battlecruiser.”

“Sir?”

“Do as he asks, Operator.” Lady Hariss must’ve picked up on the possibility. The squids made a mistake sending this brute in. On my screen, the self-destruction projection of the last battlecruisers slain by humanity were overlaid on the one that I was now looking at. It overlapped the Psi Tower. Meaning… “Operating System 549, your new mission is as follows: take that ship. I will muster a force to stop any pursuers. Operator, give him full access to House Hariss’s loadout. Operations center, consider this assignment the highest priority!”

I couldn’t help it.

I laughed.

“This is amazing! Those idiots probably brought that thing in thinking that they’ll secure their asset!” I did my best to plot out a course of attack. The sun was coming in from the ship’s flank, so I directed that side to be hit by coilguns and missiles to destroy as much of the close-in weapons as possible. That would make our approach a bit easier. With the new assets I was provided, I didn’t hesitate to call in orbital fighters to come in to attract attention from above. Finally, since I had them, I called in drones from orbit to arrive on the scene to hold the line once the squids realized what was happening. “This is the best!”

I designated multiple landing locations, put down stationary automated fortresses from orbit, and that’s when I remembered the other two mechs were still here.

“Lady Hariss, if you can buy these guys out—

“Already done. They’re yours.”

Fuck.

Yes.

On a screen that never came up before, I got the diagnostics and vitals of the two pilots and their mechs with me on the assignment.

Scarlet Knight and Blue Harbinger both connected to me… their sensors and Hariss’s operators feeding them information on what was happening.

So, I didn’t baby them.

“Well, guys. It’s time to make history. We’re in this together. Betray me and I blow both you and your mechs up. Fight with me and survive, and we get everything we’ve ever wanted.” I wasn’t one for speeches, but it was easy since I held the proverbial trigger to both of their heads. Scarlet Knight and Blue Harbinger’s signals lit up green at my statement, even as both stayed silent. I read through their schematics, while we waited on our hill and looked upon the immense tower guarded by squid’s battlecruiser. I sent them both our angle of attack, skimming close to the ground, then boosting up over five hundred meters in ten seconds right onto the ship’s deck. A deck filled with guns and hatches to release armored opponents. Perfect boss battle stage. “We start in three, two, and… mark!”

At my mark, from the horizon, streaks of coilgun rounds slammed into the sleek ship’s shields and blew them apart, then hypersonics screamed in to set it aflame and keep them off while destroying as much point-defense as possible.

This is going to be the best!

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 79

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 79

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Ichypa

…

“Seran, what the fuck. You know this sort of bullshit never ends well.”

I had to take a deep, steadying breath as I looked at what Seran made to potentially help in regards to the sensor issue that we were facing.

For a second, since Seran matured and became a mayor, I thought that she changed.

In fact, though, it looked like she just buried her fetishes in plain sight.

“We’ve got an AI right next to us, though? And Parvati’s doing well, right?” Seran tried to make a reasonable argument. However, the flush on her face and how she was looking anywhere my way informed me that she knew exactly what I was talking about. “Artificial life forms aren’t wrong. They can help humanity and even be our partners!”

I turned her way, stalked over to her, and… pinched her cheeks and pulled.

“Making people to do specific jobs is wrong!” There in a bubbling vat of green goop was a young woman suspended in fluid. She was your typical otome game villainess archetype that Seran had the hots for. Silver hair, supermodel proportions, and casually beautiful. If she opened her eyes, I was sure that I’d see scarlet irises. Exactly the woman that Seran hoots and hollers about wanting to be stepped on by, basically. “And, do you expect me to believe that woman consented to being made and given obscene powers into our world!? Think, Seran, think! This is a one-way ticket to getting murdered by your own creations!”

“But… but she’s so hot!” Seran’s eyes were wet with tears and she looked at her creation with more than lust and desire. It was the look of someone reaching the max limit of their potential. Some would be tempted call it self-actualization. I call it slipping dangerously into a land of complete delusion. Some things should stay fictional. “Look at her! She’s perfect!”

“Not worth losing your life over! Think, dammit! Think with your brain and not with your libido!” Seran wouldn’t make this person weak. I’m probably looking at someone who’s hilariously overpowered. Seran would never make someone of her favorite archetype weak. She’s the type of hack writer that can’t stand her favorites losing! “This is reality! Do you really expect this woman to dominate you and do what you ask!? Did you even put limiters on this woman!?”

Seran just sniffled in reply, and I let her go to hold my head in my hands.

So, this is how the world ends.

With everyone making their perfect waifus or making themselves into giant robot gods.

“Parvati, Mars isn’t good enough. I need out of this solar system.”

“I wasn’t aware that you had such range.”

“I don’t, but with time, training, and probably a lot of equipment, I can do it.” I answered the AI offhand. I wasn’t sure, but I’ve gotten past outer solar system already. A couple of decades and with some high-spec tech to help me out? I can probably get to Alpha Centauri. Wait a minute. “How about you prepare a vessel and have it start chugging towards Alpha Centauri? That way when it gets halfway there, and I can still reach it, we can cut the time in half by making a waystation.”

“I’ll look into it.” The AI’s response was dry, and it sighed after finishing looking over the machines. Seran and I mutually knocked it off. “This imprinting system you’ve developed is extraordinary.”

“Oh, thanks. It’s an improvement on my uplift machines for dogs and the like, which just puts information right into their heads and implants. For making people, though, we’ve naturally put safeties in. Basic information and understanding and the understanding that they can make their own choices.” Seran did her best to ignore my glare. Parvati might be okay with it, but I still wasn’t wholly on board. I trusted Seran, but I still thought this whole thing was stupid. The world needed less superhumans, not more, especially when the children of the previous generation were showcasing combinations of their parents’ powers. At this rate, in a few generations, Earth’s going to be a rock with a few biomes protected by high-tech shields. If we’re lucky, there’ll still be an atmosphere. “Her specialty lies in her ability to interface with a far larger machine in this laboratory for the sake of gravity manipulation.”

“So, you’ve made someone who can literally manipulate gravity. That’s great.”

“Only when interfacing with a machine whose power is under our direct control! Otherwise, she’s completely normal, if very, very good at math.” I grudgingly conceded the point… just a little. If the superhuman in question needed the support of a whole city state to use their power, then it wasn’t much different from a normal person needing support from the city to launch a military force attached to it. Hm. Now that I think about it, that sounded too good to be true. What kind of brain do you need in order to ‘sense’ gravity all over the planet? “Oh, don’t give me that look, Egress. You’re normal, despite having the sensor ability to teleport all over the solar system! Her gravity senses are mostly instinctive.”

“Fine, but I’m having Parvati verify.” I grunted and looked over at the AI, who just nodded at my statement. Thankfully, the AI knew that this sort of info needed to be validated. No just for my sake, by also for its sake. Someone who can control gravity would be terrifying to handle. “What did you plan to do with a machine that manipulates gravity, anyway?”

“Lower the cost of launching missions up to space by an immense amount. I wanted to get infrastructure up and running up there, since a lot of the sciences I have in mind would be easier with access to cosmic radiation… but I guess now we need it to contest the orbits.” Seran sighed, and we entered an elevator. It brought us done rapidly for a while, until we exited and entered an immense, excavated room. Some sort of advanced tech must’ve carved it out, since the surfaces of the massive sphere room were perfectly smooth. By my estimates, you could fit a stadium in the underground hollow, but most of its space was taken up by an utterly massive machine with hundreds of wires and cabling attached to it from tunnels in the ceiling. “Here it is, the magnum opus of my entire city. The first gravity manipulation core.”

Parvati spoke up, while I looked at the big sphere of metal and wires, and barely understood it.

“I see it. There’s an artificial singularity in there. I see. You’re manipulating gravity by exerting the singularity’s effects elsewhere through emitters.” I may be a lay person, but I was more than aware of the fact that ‘singularity’ was the center of a ‘black hole.’ Let me rescind my earlier statement. The earth’s fucked within this generation. There’s no need for other generations to come and play. For fuck’s sake, Seran, why would you make a black hole on Earth!? Even if can be turned off, this is ludicrously dangerous! “I am detecting several ongoing fusion reactions within the orb. I take that even if one fails that the singularity turns off?”

“Of course.”

“Alright, I’ve seen enough. I want out of this place.” This is enough super science for me for at least a couple of months. The fact that Seran and Parvati were both looking at me with pity didn’t matter. Guys, I’ve got a bachelor’s degree in business from a state university. I know enough about science to know that I don’t know anything about it and to leave it to specialists to figure out. All this is sending alarm bells off my head and wanting me to get off the planet. “Can you let me out, while you escort Parvati around, Seran?”

“Sure, Egress. C’mon, Parvati, I’ll tell you more about it while we walk.”

“Thank you.”

Oh, great, they’re going to keep driving me up the wall talking about crazy, world-changing technology the entire time.

This is why I hate not having access to my powers.

I could’ve just left!

…

Leaving Parvati and Seran, I went over to where Maelstrom was situated in the city, and took a seat.

After getting a few hours to myself back at base, of course.

Took a nap, had a meal, played some games, and destressed.

Now, I was semi-ready to report on the situation and interact with other people gain.

“So, I heard that you ran away?”

And, my social meter has dropped to half.

“Sorry, but I’m not cut out for handling technology that can destroy the world when used wrong.”

“One could say that the spread of technology led to social media, which in turn led to the swift destruction of the planet once superhumans arrived.”

“I think that once the governments lost control over violence, it was just a matter of when thing got fucked. Not how.” I replied simply. We had the penthouse suite on a remodeled hotel. Top floor and with a good view of the city. Vancouver was pretty, despite being metropolitan. Plenty of trees inside, as well as good views of two waterfronts. The penthouse was modern luxury. Tall roofs, granite, and simple furniture that was eye-wateringly expensive regardless. They got to Maelstrom. She was eating some local salmon. I heard that the population of fish in the oceans was massive now, since most of the fisheries across the world closed.  “What’ve been up to?”

“Besides fretting over the fact that there are multiple polities in space with interests on the planet? Speaking with the local council and finding what they need, so that we can trade. Normal trade with cargo ships, too.” I gave her a nod at that. Good move on her part to get away from relying on me. She’s been at it for a while. Most of the stuff getting shipped around to the communities in California are one-time things that they need for building up their own economic and tech base. She got everyone electricity, shelter, food, and water, and after that got people to work. “Recycled steel has gotten their attention, along with sugar, fruits, and grain.”

“Hey, that sounds great. Fantastic. Normal and sane.” I grumbled and Maelstrom laughed. Shaking my head, I just had to ask. “How do you feel about this whole thing anyway? The Neo-Nazis being used by the people in space to start exploiting Earth?”

“I imagine the reason why they haven’t stepped onto America is because they know I will move if they do.” Huh, that’s a good point. There was no reason for the intermediaries of the people up in space to land on Canada. I mean, there’s plenty of resources in Canada, but if you’re strip-mining and getting the local population to be your forced help, it’d be better to do it on the East Coast. Weather’s a lot less horrible, there’s more people alive there, too. Canada had like forty million people. US had three hundred million. Yeah, with all that technology and their goal, there had to be a good reason for them to not exploit the US. Maelstrom looked like she was the culprit. “I suspect that they have a surveillance system looking across the continent. I doubt that they see everything, but they are keeping track of dangers to their plans.”

“Yeah, that make sense. You’re ridiculously high profile. Anyone planning on doing anything has to take you into account.”

 Some people would say having a single satellite dedicated to monitoring someone is overkill. Then, you remember that Maelstrom shut down superpowered crime in the US over the course of a few weeks without killing a single person. She’s not just a threat to a plan. She’s a natural disaster given form and someone that needs to be planned around. You don’t confront her, unless you have someone as strong as her. If you do, then you need to set things up to give that person a means to taking her out… and then you open yourself up to that person deciding you’re no longer the boss.

Yeah, I think most ‘evil’ organizations will just work around Maelstrom, rather than prop someone up to kill her.

Maelstrom’s good nature and moral codes makes her predictable and people know she won’t become a tyrant.
Whoever kills her with the help of those who want her dead?

Yeah, they’re going to become a tyrant without a doubt.

But there was a way around that.

Someone like me.

“They’re probably looking for a way to kill you. Someone specialized with key weaknesses that they can put down with numbers and technology.”

“Like you?” Maelstrom smiled, and I didn’t hesitate to nod.

“We’ve already encountered one teleporter. We got rid of him quickly, but that just means there are other people like me. There might be a lot, but they’re just smart and keeping hidden like I used to.” My power is strong on paper, but it’s nothing that can’t be surmounted. Enough energy, enough manpower, and stealth? If I can’t reach you and find you, I can’t kill you, then you just need to wait and work while the noose closes as more and more places on the planet start saturating the air with passive electricity and disrupt me. Hell, if someone catches me once in a trap, I’d be done for. A couple dozen car batteries, then they can bring in a big generator and a laser, and all I’ll be able to do is hold on. They only need to succeed once. “You need to be more careful. At least, be ready with a sidearm or something that can get you out of a tricky situation.”

Maelstrom hummed, before nodding.

“How about a means to call you for help, and a machine that creates a dead field of energy for a few kilometers?”

I had to blink at the simple statement.

“Huh, that works. You just turn it on, get rid of the surrounding energy, and I pull you away. Yeah, that’s… basically the best thing. Why didn’t I think of that?” Maelstrom hummed and took a bite of her food, while I tried to find some explanation as to how I didn’t think of that. Why shouldn’t I work to get my hands on something that gets rid of energy fields in my immediate area!? “Seriously, why didn’t I think of that!?”

“Most likely, you’re unused to working with others and accessing them for help.” Maelstrom looked really pleased with herself. In fact, she laughed a bit while I struggled with the idea. It’s so simple… but she was right. I just always never considered asking for help, but now I had Parvati and Seran for assets like those. “I’m glad to be of help, Egress.”

I think I need to look over all my plans and make sure that I’ve taken my new allies into consideration.

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 48 and 49

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 48

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Sivantic.

…

A small fleet was given to me to start the evacuation.

“The four smaller vessels are for defense and transport. They will bring your people and supplies aboard the larger vessels, and provide defense when in transit.” The Princess spoke simply and concisely. I listened and nodded. “The two large cargo vessels will carry people and supplies and eight more will follow. The large cargo vessels will remain with your people, but with their flight cores removed they can no longer fly. They will be able to provide everything needed to establish a great settlement anywhere in this world.”

“I see. And, how will the loyalty of the crews be ensured?” I could feel her guards glaring at the back of my skull with my chosen method of address. However, I cared not, and the princess did not, either. Her countenance was stern and eyes calculating. She wished for my assistance and pursued the path to gain it while remaining true to her objectives. A creature of political realities. “Soldiers?”

“No, you wouldn’t trust them. Mercenaries who you will choose and who will follow your orders, during the exodus.” I gave a grunt of affirmation at her words. She was correct. I would not trust her soldier and knights with the protecting of the people I had saved. This land’s soldiers were the ones who refused to help them. The knights were sent to destroy them. Mercenaries fighting for gold, under contract, were more trustworthy. “Fifty or so will do for each ship. Intendents who have banded together. I doubt you’d wish for mercenary troupes under our employ.”

“I would also want some who will be willing to stay. More hands make light of great labors.” My words seemed to catch her interest for a moment. But it was only a passing moment. Her mask was returned a moment later. “I wish to vet them myself.”

“Binding oaths enforced with magic could be of some use to you.”

“I don’t want slaves, even for a brief period.” I denied that suggestion outright. The people of this land swore oaths with magic on their lips, just as others spoke chants to guide their mind and will to create effects. The clever can word their oaths carefully and effectively break it. It was more a trick to make matters seem more convenient, like a contract on paper, but with too much fine print to read. I didn’t trust such things. “Present me with the leaders of the mercenaries, and I shall meet with them. If those leaders suffice, then that will be the end of the matter.”

“Very well, that shall be done.” The princess nodded and turned to her servants. They scampered away after a few words from her. “Now, I would wish to know the extent of your abilities. What can you do to aid our cause?”

“I thought that your intent was for me to provide for the Tree of Light that you have there. To lighten the burden upon your relatives.” She hummed at my question and leaned against a wall with a patch of shade. At rest, she reminded me more of great beast of predation lounging and basking in its superiority over all creatures. The dream-like vision of an imploring princess searching for a hero seemed silly at best. “Do you not intend to use my strength for all the days that I promised to that venture?”

“For the majority, yes, I do. You’ll give time for the expanded reserves of my siblings and cousins to refill to their new limits. They will eat, they will rest, and they will return to their duties stronger.” She crossed her arms and looked towards the great tree of light in the distance. Memories of my father came to the forefront once again. His plans took precedence over everything else. It had to. He had responsibility over the livelihoods of hundreds of people. Her authority extended over hundreds of thousands in this city alone. “Five days will be all that will be needed. So, I have you for five days more.”

Her gaze was cool and calculating, the fifth in line for the throne must be a difficult position to maintain.

“I will have you strike at the heart of the brewing infestation. I have spent some time and effort in locating the center of power of these creatures. Harold, show him.” The Archmage came forward at her behest and unfurled a scroll that he had within his robes. It stayed steady in the air as a map of their kingdom. The Hierarchy of Avelia was its name. At the center of the map, as if to proclaim it was the center of the world entire, was the capital. It shared the name of the country. “Observe the westfold. The intensity of the attacks there is the most numerous and match the strength of our defenses. There is so much it threatens to flank our north and south. The east, meanwhile, is barely plagued by slightly more frenzied packs of monsters.”

The attacks of monsters were represented by red, forking arrows which advanced until they met x’s where either blue fortresses or blue arrows met them. Each blue arrow stemmed from a city farther back in the line. Regions between the fortresses and cities were encircled and with golden borders. Places that I was sure that they could not afford to lose. The lands they left behind were greyed out and with markings of settlements that remained. The place where I came from was in the southwest and showcased the network of havens established in that land. It was encircled red, like a possible enemy concentration.

She ignored my glare upon realizing that fact and spoke.

“As you can see, the enemy is spreading forth from a single location. The monsters are being concentrated and marshalled before being sent to try and break through defenses. If they were spread evenly across all our defenses, then we would fare far better. However, such is not the case. Attacks on the south and north are even weakening, while the west is buckling.”

I realized what she was implying.

“They’re gathering monsters from surrounding regions to keep pressure on your defenses.”

“Correct. Slowly, but surely, the attacks are increasing in intensity. We estimate in four months that there will be a breakthrough.”

“There already has been a breakthrough. On our path towards the first city from the southwest, many villages were emptied and caravans dead.”

“Only ten thousand people lived in that space. It is a fabricated weak spot entrusted to one of our strongest generals.” My blood ran cold at the statement. The villages and places we found emptied, the people we found dead, had been bait? “We created it to see if we can lure our foes and have them present themselves. It worked. Now we have one captive and they are easier to study. We are closing it as we speak with a dedicated counteroffensive.”

After thousands died.

It made my stomach turn to think I willingly worked with these people.

“Our trackers have taken stock of the captive and traced its path. It travelled along our roads and we found its point of entry close to the main offensive.” She traced a line through the map back to the greatest conglomeration of red lines surging against blue. “It is enough reason for us to believe that there is something there that has authority and acts as a leader. Which is why my father is now heading there and preparing for an all-out assault.”

If her father was as strong as Kan’Is, and armed and armored with the mystical equipment of these lands, that would mean he had plenty of strength to spare.

I did have a concern, though.

“Your father and his guards must be strong, yes? Measures must be taken to ensure that they aren’t infested. A powerful body gained by the infested will only be further empowered. They may not have your father’s skill and memories, but they will have his raw strength to multiply.”

“My father will not fall to these lowly creatures. Nor will his custodians.” Lassandra stated the fact like it was absolute truth, but I could only shake my head. “You may be his peer in terms of raw strength, but not in talent nor in skill. Where he goes, there is only victory for our people, and only time constrains him from saving our kingdom in its entirety.”

“Warn him, at least. Prudence does not imply weakness. Preparation is a strength all its own.” I encountered such people before. Those who believed themselves beyond accidents or disease. The simple fact is that only one success is needed for an accident or disease to bring ruin to a person. Vigilance and careful preparations are essential to survive as a normal individual. Someone venturing forth to face infestations that took over bodies? Led by a malign intellect? It would be the height of foolishness to not warn someone, at least. “With your father there, I suspect that you have need of me elsewhere?”

“Indeed, you will venture further beyond with our most skilled trackers.” Lassandra made no confirmation one whether she’ll relay information to her father. I let the matter go. I didn’t wish to pursue it any longer.  Her hand traced a line far past where the two lines met. “We wish to find their creches or whatever they have a city. Then, you can use the same method you used to melt stone upon it.”

They were going to use me to strike at the infestation’s hive.

Their most heavily protected stronghold.

Where the infection sprawled from like a tumor.

I didn’t agree with most of their ideas, in fact I detested most of them, but this one was fair.

“It will take two days of travel to reach that place whilst flying on my mount.” I told her.

“I will be lending my ship to you. You will be there in a day. You will rest after you support my siblings and cousins.” The timetable was sharp, but I could not complain. Five days supporting their efforts to maintain their source of light, a day of rest, and then the rest spent fighting against the source of the infection. Some may call it desperate, but even if I failed in purging the cluster of infection, the people supporting the tree of light will have rested properly. “If you cannot purge it within four days, do as much as you can, and you will still receive your reward.”

I suspected that it would not be simple, and that her ship would not remain that long with me.

I’ll bring Cornelius along just in case.

Harold closed the map after Lassandra gestured at him to put it aside.

She was silent for a while, as if expecting an argument from me, before speaking again.

“You have no doubt that you will accomplish the second half of your task? You will not argue for another task entirely?”

“No. I will not. I will do it, in order to ensure that your end of the bargain is kept.” Lassandra’s eyes widened for just a moment, until she closed them with a faint smile of respect. “Yes. You may be rid of me and the promise you made, if I only supported your siblings and cousins, but if all in this land know what I did to the greatest threat you’ve faced? You will have no choice but to abide.”

“An astute observation. You’re well-versed in politics, despite your immaturity when it comes to the necessity of sacrificing the few to save the many.”

I glared at her before replying.

“What is the point of absurd strength if not to be able to save all that you can?”

These people are ridiculous.

All their power and strength, yet they’ve trade lives for the stability of their rule and traded even more after this assault by the infested began. They robbed the populace of their potential to control them, but did not have the commensurate strength to keep the people as safe as they would be if they had not. Now, even as they have force to spare to protect their core regions, they use thousands as bait to lure in their foes.

The power that they have is wasted, and as talented as this young woman is, I had no faith in the future of this land.

She did not answer my words, simply shaking her head, and condemning the idea to oblivion with barely a mote of understanding.

I would spit at her feet, if I were not masked.

“The reports indicate that you travelled with a skilled huntress that you taught much. I would like to recruit her to your cause.”

“She is in the north sharing information on the infection with those rebelling. You will find that she has no common cause with you.” I told the princess simply. Her guards hissed at my statement and even Harold frowned. “She will come along with the exodus. If you have concerns for her future actions against you, I will restrain her and drag her away from these lands by force, if needed. You have my word.”

“I see. There were reports of a strong fighter in the north. Rumors from our spies that there is someone there that the rebels are listening to and has them acting. Someone who has already left them.”

“She’s making her way towards Lucien’s city.” I took a length of bandage from my satchel and wrote upon it, before holding it towards the princess. “Lucien can give this message to her. If she accepts, she can come along. Otherwise, she will return to the remains of her village and join the evacuation.”

The princess nodded sharply, before inquiring once again.

“And, the powerful As’Kari warrior that was with you?” This time she spoke with more concern. Djet’Is was equal to me in strength and far more skilled and talented. She also trained for combat and rulership. And, someone who kills. A true rival to their king. Of course, she would be more concerned. “She was last sighted heading towards the villages you protected.”

“She is heading to the As’Kari before returning to Lucien’s city. She goes to inform them of the threat. It will be months before she returns.”

“I see, that is a shame.” Her relief was barely noticeable to her companions and servants, but I noticed it. Naturally, she and her people would respect the likes of Djet’Is. “Then, I shall have my people wait for your friend in Lucien’s city. We make our way to the capital.”

As she spoke, a sleek ship descended from the heavens composed entirely of metal and crystal, instead of timber and sails.

The vessel that she claimed would take me across their lands in a single day, I suspected.

Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts 49

…

Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Ichypa.

…

Unlike the creaking wooden ship that I sailed into the inner lands of the Hierarchy, the princess’s ship was silent and more like a castle shaped like a ship carving through the air. The princess boarded and her servants already awaited her. The crystals on the starboard and port sides reminded me of engines. It was all carved from stone and put together. Marble-like with faint glowing flushes of crystal embedded within.

Harold took notice of my interest.

“It is an amalgamated material, much like my staff. One stone holds the crystal in place, and allows for power to flow through the entirety of the vessel. It makes a core unnecessary.” He looked upon the vessel fondly. I recalled the princess mentioning cores within the ships being given having their cores removed upon the completion of the journey. It would make them unable to fly. I see. The vessels under the direct control of royalty did not have a need for such an exploitable weakness in combat. Harold saw through me and cleared his throat. “Nay, this is a more recent advancement and the techniques are being spread and taught. It will be decades yet, but these will be the most common ships.”

“Their efficacy in load bearing, their swiftness, and the decreased cost of fueling them demand it, physician.” The princess addressed my unspoken thoughts as well. A wry smile flitted across her face. “I’m sure that many of my family would like to retain it only for our use, but the benefits it would bring in the whole kingdom are too great.”

“Were it to be only for the good of your people, I would find no issue with it. However, I know that this will be made use of in war.” The increased speed, efficiency in fuel costs, and the loss of a great weakness? That outlined the future of this vessel and its kin for warfare. The skies will be teaming with these ships and spreading the influence of the Hierarchy. “Before this reaches the hands of the people, you will have ones that can hunt what you allow them to have.”

“And, the As’Kari do not give the finest to those with the most merits to keep the rest under control?” The imposing female knight that followed us always spoke up. I already forgot her name. She removed her helm though. She had a wild mane of golden locks, but what interested me were her eyes. They were bright red like Averi’s and her were so close to fangs that I wondered if she had difficulty eating fruits and vegetables. This one was a predator barely constrained in human trappings. “The strongest of the Desert tribes have the finest weapons and keep the rest in line, no?”

Harold sighed, while I just scoffed at her words.

“Nay. I’m afraid you’re wrong there, my friend. The people of the Great Desert are all warriors. It would take too much for their finest to be armed as to be able to fight the rest of the population.” Harold was well-learned regarding the tribes of the Great Desert, though he lacked the specifics. The towering, armored blonde scowled but did not bite back at the lean and wiry Archmage. Despite his smaller stature, it was obvious who was stronger between the two, and who had more authority. “Though, I believe some chieftains are expected to be able to battle their entire council and win.”

“It would be foolish of us to restrain our population from gaining the strength needed to survive.” I stated simply, and ignored the growl that came from the titan. The princess just sighed and ignored the statement, moving forward into the vessel.

The inside was well lit and there were windows with glass being closed by servants. Rather than a captain’s room, we entered an office with shelves of books with a long table with many chairs preceding a section for the princess to work in peace. Stairs led downward into the rest of the ship and tea was served on fine silverware. I looked outside and realized we were already flying. It did not feel like we were moving at all.

“I see that you noticed it. The control over movement that makes this vessel so incredible. The costs of maintenance falls drastically because so little is worn down.” Harold’s excitement was palpable. It was easy to see why. This was a vessel that was at the apex of his craft. A combination of various fields of expertise that brought about a great and grand result that was wanted by the whole nation with many practical applications. “A ship of this size only needs one trained mage and it lifts so much! If we wish to travel for days, we only need two mages to continuously power and fly it incessantly! If we wished to go faster, we could even have two piloting at the same time.”

His enthusiasm was a bit infectious. I almost had to remind myself that this man willingly worked for a bunch of treacherous bastards.

I refocused instead of lashing out with that thought.

His childlike innocence made me want to ask him why he did not leave the Hierarchy as many knights did to protect the common people.

It was a pointless question to ask.

“How fast could it go, if I were the one to give it power?” I chose instead to make small talk with the man, if only to avoid speaking with either the princess or the knightess. The question made Harold’s eyes bulge in surprise. His jaw dropped as he went through the calculations. “Well?”

“I… I don’t believe that this vessel is resilient enough to withstand your full strength. The crystals would shatter even with the support of the stones around it.” He closed his eyes and his thumb ran over the joints of his fingers. His mouth moved wordlessly as he whispered calculations to himself. His surprise only grew and grew. “However, if it were all steel and the lattice was carefully laid through the hull… the speed you would be able to move through the world should allow you to circumnavigate the world in a week’s time.”

“Make such a thing for the King first, Archmage.” Lassandra addressed the matter simply. Harold was quick to apologize and bow his head. However, the princess eyed me with some passing interest. “How much can the ship withstand, though? We can reach the capital much faster if he powered it, I imagine.”

“If I power this ship, then my service to you begins. Would you rather it start now or when I relieve your cousins and siblings of their burden?”

A huff of faint laughter left the princess’s lips.

“Nay, I think not. I shall have you aid my family for a full five days starting from the moment you reach and empower the Tree of Light.” I thought such would be the case. Still, the young woman looked over at Harold. “But the speed is still necessary. Perhaps, we can get him to the front faster if he powered the vessel after the five days are over?”

“He will need rest, and this vessel would not be able to withstand his strength.” Harold replied simply, before gazing at me. For a moment, he hesitated before some idea occurred to him. He held his staff my way. “For a moment, can you indulge me, young man? You needn’t touch it with your bare hands. One of your threads shall do.”

I obliged him with a nod, doing nothing more than extending a wire towards his staff and connecting the smallest point to the surface.

The sensation was strange. Suddenly, it felt like I had a new limb. Unlike the wires and bandages I typically controlled; the staff Harold bid me to touch did not need a constant flow of power to control. Instead, it was like an empty vessel begging to be filled. Not only that, but just touching it made me more aware of many things. The movement of air all around the ship. The heat of objects and people. Then, finally, the familiar strangeness of the power that dwelled in all the creatures of this world and even some plants.

It reminded me of flames, in how it twisted and whisked around people and had faint ‘embers’ in the air. However, its coloration, luster, and clarity were myriad. Harold’s was a blue flame that was brilliant and nearly obscured him entirely. The Archmage looked as though he were in a bonfire at all times, meanwhile the titan of a knightess was different. Her flame was dull and almost structured. It barely moved around her, but at times it seemed to surge and burn more brightly and reach a deep crimson. Meanwhile, the princess had similar, faint flames akin to the people far below in the city that we left, but upon her person was myriad trinkets and little tools that seemed to contain different colors and lusters.

However, most importantly, I was able to detect something else.

“The perception of the infection is different. With this tool, I can find the creatures with far greater ease.” I saw it. The sealed specimen on Cornelius, where the servants took him in the hold. The specimen had faint embers clinging to it, as it was long dead and held only essence. However, it was black and sloughing, more like oil instead of flame. I was unable to discern differences with my regular senses, but with “Can I acquire something akin to this staff?”

I expected an answer, but Harold stumbled back and nearly dropped the staff.

The Princess and the knightess both suddenly looked his way, while I caught it with the thread.

“Archmage? What has happened?” The princess spoke tersely and approached him, while the knightess stood between me and Harold. I stayed put and raised a brow, while placing the staff away on the nearest surface. “Did he do something to you?”

The knightess’s hand was on the hilt of her blade.

I did nothing in turn, though I was prepared to flee through the walls to Cornelius if needed.

“No! Nothing. I was… simply shocked! It's one thing to see his power and another thing wholly to feel it.” Hm. He used it the same way that I did. The value of the tool was becoming more and more apparent. This was essential to discerning the ‘power’ that was within people. To a physician of this world, it was a fantastic diagnostic tool. I wondered if sickness effected the ‘flames’ of each person. Maintaining the health of a population would be far easier if you can simply see all who are sick within the city. “I see now how you managed to gain such strength, young man. You have been training with your power diligently, incessantly, and consumed monsters your whole life, but that wasn’t enough. You’ve been risking your very soul, as well. One wrong move with your techniques and you perish. It is only thanks to your diligence and precision that you now live.”

Hm.

I highly doubted that the ‘flame’ that I pushed to the limit so many times was the soul.

After all, I did not have this flame in my previous life, yet here I am in another world entire in a new body.

Whatever the soul is, wherever it is truly located, it is not the flame that encircles the body.

Still, I could see why messing with the flames that I just saw may cause death. It felt volatile and mighty. Crushing it against one another, grinding it so that it may grow stronger, would cause catastrophic harm if done wrong. It is good, then, that I took great care in doing so and always ceased whenever it felt too ‘tight.’ It was difficult, of course But precision came with practice, and I have always known the value of precision.

I suspected that few people in this world could stitch together innards, or put a limb back on after it’s been blown off with just surgical tools.

“That matters little. What matters in truth is that item allows me to peer more closely into others. The power held by the infected is different from regular people. It’s more viscous. Less like a flame, and more like a smothering oil.”

“Of course, your senses and attunement is far greater than any other. Coupled with the effects of my staff, that would allow you to search for the infested!” Harold was almost giddy. He went over to his staff and practically thrust it into my hands. “Can you see my power? My strength? Where am I lacking? If you take a close look at the base of the circle around me—

“There is more than a circle. It is a flame. Starting at your waist. The base is similar to a circle.” Harold’s mouth opened and closed, before his eyes widened and he went for the princess’s desk. Swiftly, he procured fine papers, and held it towards me. With a practice had, I obliged his unspoken request. I made a swift sketch of his frame, then drey the flames that I saw. It was centered around the stomach of a person and flowed outward and inward. For comparison, I drew the flame of a normal person for a baseline. I made notes and descriptions, just as I would some new animal or plant. He took the sketch with trembling hands. “I see. The theories are correct. There is more that we do not see. The circle is just the foundation of the arcane.”

I had many questions about how they saw the matter, but elected against asking.

Instead, I focused on the new diagnostic tool.

“With something akin to this, I can help find infiltrators and purge them. Can you prepare one before I finish aiding the capital? If such is the case, then we can fly over cities and I can deal with threats swiftly.”

Lassandra eyed me carefully before nodding.

“Keep that one. A new one will be procured for our Archmage. I doubt that one will do as he bids, now that you’ve saturated it with your power.” The princess turned away and gestured towards the knightess, who moved to follow her. Harold found a seat and poured over the description I provided him, ecstatic at the findings.

I wondered if I should help him more, or speak to the princess.

Then, I decided to attend to Cornelius, as I wanted to care for him just in case.

The less I interacted with these people the better off I will be.